Head-hopping and crisis reading

Man Ray’s 1924 portrait of Kiki de Montparnasse.

Ah, the joys of an unprecedented global pandemic.

COVID-19 officially reached my town a few days ago, and the library where I work responded by temporarily shutting its doors on Tuesday. Now I, like so much of the world, am practicing social distancing and self-quarantining as a means of keeping both myself and others healthy.

In addition to the requisite stocking up on canned/dried foods, pet supplies, and, yes, toilet paper, I also prepared for the long isolation by picking up some extra books from both the library and local indie bookstore. I wanted things that felt fresh but would also tick off some boxes for my 2020 Reading Challenge. As a result, I’m currently reading authors who are largely new to me, even though some of them are quite famous within their genres.

Before I go on, I should admit that I’m probably a particularly difficult reader right now. Whether I’m turning pages at home or listening to an audiobook during a walk around my neighborhood, the story I’m consuming is always, on some level, in competition with the stir-craziness and anxiety constantly floating around the edges of my consciousness. So I’m trying extra hard to not make too many judgements about the authors or books I’m currently reading, and definitely won’t be naming names for any complaints I may have.

That being said, there is one issue that’s come up enough I felt I had to write a post about it, since it’s also something that can plague all writers. And that issue is head-hopping.

For those unfamiliar with the term, head-hopping just means jumping between characters’ perspectives within a single scene and usually applies to stories written in third person. Although there are still writers who will defend it as a stylistic choice, most industry professionals don’t agree. Many agents will even use the appearance of head-hopping as a means of identifying writers who are not yet ready to go professional.

Honestly, I’ve found that as reader I don’t always mind head-hopping, at least when it appears sparingly and in scenes with very few, well-differentiated characters. As an editor, however, I always point out head-hopping when I come across it—usually with a note about the degree to which it impedes my ability to follow a scene—because I know it can be a huge turn-off to industry professionals and many readers. In fact, I often encourage writers to start a new chapter when they switch perspectives, just to be as consistent and clear as possible.

So it’s been a surprise this week to come across not just one but several instances of head-hopping in a recent, well-regarded book by a best-selling author.

Far from being benign and easily understood, the hopping in this case truly is a hinderance to reader comprehension in part because the novel and its various scenes have MANY characters whose voices are not always radically different. Head-hopping in these instances, then, makes it difficult to determine whose perspective I’m reading and the story overall harder to follow. The fact that both the author and their editor either missed this or made the conscious decision to not take the time to change it is a little mind-boggling.

This kind of double-standard between what most writers are told they can do and what superstar authors actually do drives many a writer crazy. It can also lead new authors to believe they should be able to get away with the same mistakes as their heroes. And it is frustrating.

However, when I come across these issues in a published book by an otherwise solid writer, I always end up feeling bad for the author. Why? Because I know what I’m seeing is probably the product of industry-required speed over care. Once popular, an author and their editorial team can be under tremendous pressure to churn out new stories quickly, not giving them enough time to perfect their work before it hits shelves. And invested series readers will be willing to overlook a lot if it means getting more of their favorite characters faster. But once a book is published, that’s it. Authors then have to live with the errors of their novels and the way those errors may reflect back on them.

So my advice is this:

Always strive for perfection and clarity in your own work, but be gentle in your judgements of others.

Avoid head-hopping.

And, above all, do what you need to do to stay healthy, safe, and sane during this weird and difficult time.

Current mood. Photo by Alejandro Salazar.

Become a better writer by being a better citizen

Photo by Daiga Ellaby.

For my money, the best writers are not only good at the craft of writing, but are exceptionally curious, clearsighted, and empathetic people. Without those traits, an author will almost always fail to build a realistically complex and interesting world or write convincing, varied characters. Fortunately, most people possess at least some curiosity and empathy, but these attributes are easily and too often eclipsed by our contradictory same-seeking tendencies. This post is therefore about nurturing those searching, thoughtful aspects of ourselves even when our environment might encourage us to suppress them.

Photo by Johannes Plenio.

Although the tendency to gravitate towards people who are like ourselves is probably as old as humanity itself, we do seem to live in a period where our very environment—particularly our virtual environment—actively encourages our same-seeking instincts in a way that also leads to greater isolation from those with different abilities; political, religious, or social backgrounds; and gender, sexual, or racial identities, thus both aggravating and over-emphasizing these divisions. The irony here is that, if you live in a place with basic internet access (and, if you’re reading this, you probably do), there has also never been a time when it is easier to find, listen to, and interact with people of nearly every demographic, from many parts of the world.

To take advantage of those resources, though, we have to first recognize that there is a wide and varied landscape we don’t see, actively consider what information and perspectives we aren’t being exposed to, and then make the choice to go look for them. It doesn’t sound hard because, on one level, it really isn’t. But for many, passivity in the face of information feels normal and natural. In fact, we are all susceptible to trusting misleading information when it comes from a trusted source or fits neatly within our already held world-views. And looking beyond what’s presented to us takes time, time that most people don’t believe they have, and some people probably don’t.

But if you’re an author—particularly one seeking to write multiple books or anything that ventures outside your own experience—no excuse matters. Seeking a deeper understanding of the world is part of your job. You actually need to do what all of us should do.

Photo by Trevor Cole.

Tips on how to start

• If you haven’t already, start by seeking own-voices perspectives rather than relying on third-party evaluations. There are plenty of smart people writing or vlogging about their experiences out there, many of whom can put their thoughts in historical or sociological contexts, so do a Google search and go find them. Once you actually start looking and spending time with more varied media, you will find your recommendations from places like YouTube and Amazon become more varied as well.

• Watch and read media (TV, movies, books, etc.) that weren’t explicitly made for you.

• Check the funding or context of what you consume. Is a particular vlogger presenting his own, independent ideas, or is he operating under the umbrella of a larger entity? Does that entity have a particular bias? Another quick Google search can usually help with this. [Be especially wary of groups that use vaguely patriotic or otherwise positively emotive words, as well as those that attach the word “college” or “university” to their names when they are not actual, accredited colleges or universities. I’m looking at you, Prager U.]

• Question your own reactions to what you encounter.

It should go without saying, but always be respectful of whatever space you enter, especially when that space was not intended for you. You don’t have to agree with or accept everything you see or hear, but if you are consuming good-faith media (ie, stories put forward honestly, without hidden agenda), then it is your responsibility to meet the people creating that media in the same good faith.

Photo by Aaron Burden.

Of course, there is no substitute for physically getting out of your comfort zone and spending real-world time with people who, in one way or another, aren’t like you. Not to interview them, or force awkward conversations and ask unwanted questions (try to find those answers elsewhere, from those who are already making answers available through their writings or videos). But just to be a person, reminding yourself of others’ humanity while reminding them of yours.

Photo by Jakob Owens.

On a final note, I’m going to be taking a break from Notes from an Editor. The rest of my year will be full with starting a new job, NaNoWriMo, holidays, and family health, and I need to cut back somewhere. I do intend to keep up with Visual Writer during this period, and expect to return to Notes from an Editor in January.

In the meantime, I wish you all a happy Halloween, Thanksgiving (for those in the US), and winter holidays!

Photo by Jeremy Thomas.

Tips for mystery writers

Photo by Anders Jildén.

Mystery is by far the genre I edit most and the one I consumed most growing up. Even now, I regularly rewatch episodes of Poirot and Miss Marple with the enthusiasm of visiting dear and much-missed friends. Mystery is also, I firmly believe, one of the most difficult genres to write well. I am perpetually impressed by the authors who attempt to take it on, and awed by those who do so with aplomb.

The Twin Pillars of Plot and Character

While literary fiction often concerns itself primarily with theme and character, and science fiction hooks with its concept and plot, mystery truly is about plot and character. The plot, after all, is quite literally what makes a story a mystery, but consistent, believable characters are what make a mystery work. In the best cases, compelling characters can even draw readers in over and over, long after they understand the plot’s puzzle.

With that in mind, here are my top tips for those intrepid writers endeavoring to take on this daunting genre.

1. Check your timeline

   I mentioned this one back in my “Beyond Typos” post, but a clean, logical timeline is crucial for mystery writers. Because mysteries are about understanding past events, usually by untangling multiple character threads, chronologies can become very complicated very quickly. If everything doesn’t line up logically, your story will fall apart.

   Especially if you’re a pantser (i.e., someone who writes without an outline or other form of plan), perfecting your timeline will mean going back over your finished draft with a fine-tooth comb and finding an editor able and willing to catch the stuff you may have missed. Plotters (those who create a clear plan and preparatory materials before drafting) will have an easier time with this, as they can build and double check their timelines in the outline stage. However, even plotters alter their stories as they go, and thus are not immune to plot discrepancies. The main difference between plotters and pantsers in the self-editing stage, then, is that plotters should have a pre-made timeline to check their manuscript against, while pantsers will create their timelines as they edit.

   Bonus tip: Don’t depend on your beta readers to fix your timeline. Although you may have particularly thorough and sharp-eyed friends able to catch plot inconsistencies as they read, straightening out timelines typically requires multiple passes and an extremely organized, detail-oriented approach, both of which are outside the scope of traditional beta-reading.

2. Keep your characters distinct and (mostly) consistent

   You can have a perfectly logical and clever plot, but if readers don’t find your characters believable, they won’t have confidence in your book. And if they can’t distinguish your characters in a way that allows them to remember who’s who, they won’t be able to follow your plot. Establishing characters with easily distinguishable traits and making their actions consistent with those traits is therefore imperative.

   In part, this means giving your characters clearly distinct names (think Raj, Karen, and Emery, NOT Katie, Karen, and Kai), as well as varied ages, physical features, personalities, social roles, personal philosophies, and histories.

   Naturally, you will have some logical overlap between characters—members of the same family will have physical similarities, for instance, just as people from the same graduating class will be around the same age. In these cases, you have two general choices.

   The first is to lean more heavily on other types of differences to distinguish members of that group. For instance, to individuate two gray-haired widows who now share a house, you might want to make one of them tall, stern, and quiet and the other petite, friendly, and chatty. To make it easy for the reader to remember who is who, you could also give them names that reflect their personalities. In this case, the tougher character might have a consonant-heavy, harder sounding name like Gertrude, while the more approachable character might have a softer or more diminutive name like Aggie or Dot.

   The second choice is to treat the group as a single character, meaning that the group’s members share the same major characteristics and we only (or mostly) see them while together. If you choose this path, you will want to use a single group name or combined name for every mention of the group and the people in it. For our widows, this might mean always describing them as “The Watching Widows” or always referring to them together so that their combined names eventually read as a single moniker. In other words, they aren’t “Gertrude” and “Dot,” but rather “Gertrude and Dot.” This is also a rare case in which you might want to give members of that particular group similar names, because the shared identity of that group’s members matters more than the individuals themselves. The widows might then become “Betty and Letty” or “Aggie and Annie.”

   Of course, people are messy and prone to change over time. Including those discrepancies can make your characters more believable, but only if the reasons for these character inconsistencies are well-grounded. For instance, let’s say you have a suspect who has dedicated her life to non-violent causes. If that’s all your readers know about her, they will not find it plausible if she turns out to be a crazed murderer. On the other hand, if sticking to non-violent means leads to the death of someone close to her, readers might understand if she ultimately loses faith in her once-held beliefs and seeks revenge against her friend’s killer. Or, we might find out that she killed someone many years ago, and has clung to action-through-non-violence as a kind of penance ever since. In either scenario, the murder and the murderer’s primary characteristics are revealed to be intimately linked. Even better, by showing logical growth in response to major life events, the character becomes more textured, deeper, and, thus, more believable.

3. Balance number of suspects with story length

   On a related note, the number of suspects in your story can also have a serious impact on reader enjoyment. Too few and the mystery may become too easy or boring. Too many and you risk bogging down the story’s pace, leaving characters underdeveloped, and overwhelming readers. For short stories, a good rule of thumb is to include three to four suspects, while novels should have at least four, and probably closer to between five and eight.

   Can there be exceptions to this rule? Depending on your approach and goal, sure. If, say, your book is really meant to be an in-depth psychological or philosophical study of two contrasting characters, then you might only have two real suspects. But straying too far from the 3–4/5–8 guideline can make it more difficult to maintain tension and/or coherence throughout your story, and should only be done for carefully considered reasons.

4. Balance clues with red herrings throughout your manuscript

   For mysteries, reader satisfaction comes from endings that are so logical they seem obvious once the story is complete, but only once the story is complete.

   Too often, writers confuse surprise with satisfaction. When this happens, they might hide crucial information until the final reveal. This tactic will increase the likelihood of surprising readers, but at the cost of leaving them feeling cheated.

   Never forget: most mystery readers love a puzzle and expect a fair shot at figuring out that puzzle on their own. No one likes to play a rigged game.

   Mystery writers, therefore, must include clues throughout their stories, but will need to balance these clues with red herrings and/or hide them in plain sight by inserting them into places where the reader’s focus will be elsewhere. The YouTube channel Just Write has a great video on how J.K. Rowling both presents and hides clues in the Harry Potter series by using selective descriptive vagueness, placing the culprit in the background of the story, burying clues in other information, or dropping clues and then immediately redirecting the reader’s attention to something that feels more important. All of these techniques are effective because, when implemented well, they should leave readers feeling satisfied that the game was challenging but, ultimately, fair.

   Again, plotters are at an advantage here. Because they know where their stories are headed, they can add both clues and red herrings as they go. Pantsers will probably need to weave clues and anti-clues into second and third drafts.

The above tips are mainly for those writing traditional mysteries, but are worth keeping in mind for related genres like suspense or thriller. And, as usual, they are meant as (hopefully) helpful guideposts rather than hard and fast rules.