Having married into a grease-monkey family of car-nerds, I’ve started to see parallels between breaking down and rebuilding engines, and doing the same with stories. So, here’s my first piece of advice for writers:
Think like an engineer, not like a director.
Directors focus on the visual effect of a scene: what comes first, what comes next, and who stands where. This leads to static, boring prose and opens the door to sparkly, Hollywood-esque Mary Sue characters. It also makes for a disappointing experience for the reader. When you’re watching TV, you’re limited to the visual language of television. Yes, it can be enhanced with clever camera angles, special effects and a killer soundtrack. However, if you are a writer seeking to replicate that (and only that) on the page for a reader, you’re selling the medium short.
Engineers see the story as a machine with many moving parts. Each part serves a specific function, and all the parts move in sync towards the goal: firstly, to entertain the reader; secondly, to deliver the theme; and thirdly, evoke emotions in the reader.
Writers are not mere movie-makers. We are dream-weavers. We work in the language of the imagination, which is limitless. Each perception we invoke through our word-wizardry sets off a chain reaction of interconnected connotations and memories in the reader. Don’t limit that by focusing on making a movie happen in your reader’s head when instead you can make emotions happen that are far more profound. You should be using all the tools at your disposal to make your story machine do its job: leave your reader with an emotional experience.
Engineers know which buttons to push.
Engineers, on the other hand, see the story as a machine with many moving parts. Each part serves a specific function, and all the parts move in sync towards the goal: firstly, to entertain the reader; secondly, to deliver the theme; and thirdly, evoke emotions in the reader. Story engineers know what all the buttons are and how to push them.
Firstly, they know how setting a scene relies on the mood. They know that setting is described by how the characters perceive it and interact with the space, and that it provides room for the action to happen. Secondly, engineers know that stories exist within a broader literary context. This means that some images can automatically trigger feelings in a reader. These can be handy shortcuts if used wisely, or awful clichés if used poorly. Finally, engineers know that anything which doesn’t serve a purpose needs to be tossed out; the best machines are efficient and have a balance between form and function.
There are many parts to a story, but the big ones are:
- Characters and their story arcs, based on their motivations, goals and the obstacles in their way
- Themes, mood and tension
- Plot, twists and hooks
- Dialogue and narration
- Setting and worldbuilding
- Structure: scenes, beats and chapters
- Perspective and voice
Writers can’t just work on these parts independently of each other and expect the story to hold up. You need to see them as a whole, and how each part affects and interacts with the other parts. Characters have motivation and the obstacles in their way create the ups and downs of the plot roller-coaster. Short chapters build tension, while longer chapters leave room for worldbuilding. Perspective is a key tool in building suspense or giving insight into character motivations. These are just a few of the relationships: everything connects and has an impact on everything else.
Think about which parts of your writing are not serving the purpose of the story. Have you introduced a character by name, spending time describing them, only to have them disappear entirely from the book a few pages later? Did you devote pages to setting a detailed, evocative scene, just to have your characters get up and go somewhere else for the action? Do you have filler scenes which could be trimmed away? Does every chapter serve a purpose, or did you insert chapter breaks just to give your reader a chance to catch their breath? Are your story-telling gears clogged with clunky phrasing, adverb overload or stilted dialogue?
Applying the engineer approach to other types of writing
This approach works for nonfiction too. My father-in-law, the head engineer in the family, asked me to look over a response to a technical discussion he’d written. I approached it from the reader’s experience perspective. This helped him to step outside of sentence-level construction. Moving beyond the information being presented, to ask “what purpose does this paragraph serve as a whole in the piece?” was a game-changer. It helped him to consider how the complexity of the sentences affects the reader’s attention span. He also learned how to focus on the interesting parts and foreshadow them in the introduction to pull his reader along and keep them on board with his argument. After that, a little spit and polish and it was a smooth ride to publishing.
Don’t be afraid to get covered in oil as you start the process of taking your story apart and putting it back together. Writing is a process of creation and destruction; nothing is perfect in its first draft stage. Get the wrenches out and get to work. When each part shines, does its job, and connects to the others, your writing will be solid, efficient and effective.
If you’d like to work through this process directly with me, click the button below.
