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Ways that both Relationships and Stories can Fail

April 19th, 2010

I think that people, trying to make sense of life, often try to understand events in terms of their expertise and interests.  My dad relates things to chess situations.  My mom is more analytical than most people, and chess is about conflict as are most problems in life.  I guess it works for him.  I relate things to writing, to story.

I’m trying to make sense of why the love of my life and I have not been able to make it work since she moved here a few weeks ago.  I tend not to post such personal things, but maybe this will help me avoid explaining to my friends why my girlfriend is suddenly not around.  I still love her and care about her, very much, and hope she’ll be happy, but…to the writing issue.

If someone told me about a movie featuring aliens fighting robots, with some of the best actors in the business, cutting edge special effects, I’d say, “That sounds perfect to me!  Exactly what I’m looking for!”  But instead of Avatar, it’s The Phantom Menace.  Ugh.

But that’s not the best analogy here.  I think it’s more about the writing, page by page, in my case.  We both made mistakes, and they were not mistakes of being well matched on paper.  There are so many ways that we find each other attractive, are well matched in our values, and other important personal characteristics, and we’ve been friends for years although primarily long distance.  And it was either the stressful circumstances or a basic underlying incompatibility that had been hidden to us, or escalating misunderstandings.  For whatever reason, it was deadly.

Anyway, I want to focus on the writing issue and not on my broken heart.  You can assemble a perfect story, with dynamic characters, interesting settings, and it sounds super when described.  The story takes place in the reader’s head, and a writer presents a series of words that try to put the story he has envisioned into the heads of his readers.  If the writing isn’t strong and clear, the reader will see a bad story, maybe even a very different story.  Sometimes a reader has such a different background, different experiences and expectations, that they just don’t get the writer’s intention at all.

One of my friends from the Clarion West Workshop used to say, “Too subtle for the likes of me,” when she didn’t get the point of a scene or story.  Worse, and I think this happens more often in real life, is that a different meaning is received.  Imagine someone giving directions — perhaps longer or more detailed than necessary.  This could be interpreted as someone who is very meticulous (my brother gives long, laborious directions to everyone all the time), someone who is conscientious and cares about someone finding their way (usually me when I’m guilty of this as I’d rather have more detailed directions given to me when I ask for them), or as being condescending (someone who doesn’t think the listener can figure things out for themselves).  If the characters are in love, I wouldn’t assume the last one, but a reader brings their own perspective and history.  Nancy Kress had a great example in one of her writing books, in which she wrote a scene of a woman taking off a man’s belt, giving different clues in different versions that totally changed how to interpret the scene (enthusiastic vs. forced, if I recall correctly).

There’s a chemistry to reading a page that is related to the chemistry in relationships.  You get the subtle things, and it works.  There isn’t too much or too little in the way of description, or too many things that are ambiguous.  The phrases you use to show body language are registered and interpreted in the intended way, and not missed or misunderstood.

When it works, you get Tommy Lee Jones and Will Smith in Men in Black, and when it fails you get Kevin Kline and Will Smith in Wild, Wild West.

For some popular examples from fantasy, a lot of people pick up Lord of the Rings and never get through it, as the long descriptive passages, the foreign terms, and especially the poetry and songs, are not their cup of tea.  Of course many people love it for the richness of the language and the textured world building.  Then there’s the popular rip-off version, Sword of Shanara, which has a more accessible style, and also sold a lot of copies and probably got set down a lower fraction of the time.  (Not to say that Sword is better than Lords — not by any means! — but it will be more readable to some fraction of buyers.)  Some people prefer Hemingway and some Falkner, and apparently a lot of people get neither and prefer Dan Brown.

It’s how it turns on the page.  Is it moving?  Is it enjoyable?  Or does it come off as pretentious or slow, despite the author’s intentions?

One of my students once told me I was really good at being critical without coming across as mean or making them feel bad.  That was one student.  Another student who I didn’t know as well, or who had different life experiences, might come to a different conclusion.

There are feminist and minority readers who react strongly to certain books, seeing sexism or racism that may or may not be the writer’s intent, or even present by most objective measures.  There are schools of thought about it’s really there if not intended or if it must be there if it’s perceived.

Me, I just do my best to tell my story the way I know how, and hope I do it well enough that it’s close to what the readers imagine.  Readers who know your work and already like it are likely to get it and give you some leeway for ambiguities, some trust that the intended message will get through over the length of the book.  I imagine myself as my ideal reader (which probably explains my lowish sales — I should be imaging a Dan Brown fan, as there are tens of millions more of them who buy books).

In a relationship, both parties are simultaneously reader and writer, composing a story together.  Different styles and different expectations can lead to dynamic and interesting events that are fun and new, or frustrating and tiring (here’s a great example of a collaborative essay gone bad!).

Daily communication and chemistry count as much if not more than the big picture features, both in relationships and stories.  And sometimes even people who love each other still can’t get on the same page.

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8 Responses to “Ways that both Relationships and Stories can Fail”

  1. SMD Says:
    April 19th, 2010 at 7:45 am

    That sucks man. Sorry to hear that. Hope things get better soon.

    And I like the writing analogy. I might use that some time.

  2. Samantha Henderson Says:
    April 19th, 2010 at 8:05 am

    Sorry about that, Mike.

    I can’t help but think that the participants in the collaboration had an affair afterwards.

  3. Rodrigo Says:
    April 19th, 2010 at 9:18 am

    Sorry to hear that Mike! I hope things get better.

  4. Gina Says:
    April 19th, 2010 at 10:38 am

    Great essay. And I loved your analogies to writing a story. You know that if you’re writing a story and just doesn’t seem to be working, for whatever reason, you pull the paper from the typewriter and start a new one (okay, you open a new file on your computer, whatever). You take little bits from the last story that worked, and go from there. And the next book is destined to be greater because of where it came from. It’s hard to give up on a story, you invest a lot of time and thought into it, but starting it over just might lead you to your best seller.
    How was Kick Ass, by the way?

  5. Ways that both Relationships and Stories can Fail | Bitter And Sweet Blog Says:
    April 19th, 2010 at 10:50 am

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  6. Mel Green Says:
    April 19th, 2010 at 11:43 am

    I tend to think about my life in terms of story too.

    With relationships — well, that’s lots like one of those stories that you try to write it one way, but then turns out that the characters have ideas of their own — & you either let your characters have their head, or not. The former is unpredictable & might be way too wild, but the latter might be too controlled & so predictable as to be dull.

    And since in a real relationship, both of you are both reader and writer, then you have all that to deal with as well.

    But given that it’s story, & given that this story didn’t go as you thought it would — does that mean the story simply ended? And the meaning of that story was “failure”? What if, instead, it just morphed into a different story? What’s it about now?

    Hope it’ll be a good one.

  7. Mike Brotherton Says:
    April 19th, 2010 at 12:53 pm

    Samantha, hate is a strong emotion and you only have strong emotions when you care about someone. Much better to be hated than ignored.

    Gina, Kick Ass was pretty good. Not as good as Watchmen, probably better than Mystery Men. The moral underpinnings for the violence were there. I felt like training the young girl to be what she became was no worse than what the religious do to their kids. I don’t like it, but I can understand it.

    Mel, remember Watchmen? Nothing ever ends. And like experiments, even the ones that don’t end as you hope teach you something. Ideally. Even great writers keep learning, and I have no doubt I have more to learn about relationships, and I’ve been learning…

  8. free magazines on line Says:
    April 29th, 2010 at 5:15 pm

    Great report,I recently subscribed to your rss feed.

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