Remember a few days ago when I wrote that middle length blog which said, in a lot of words, almost nothing? Well, this is sort of a lithuanian continuation of that.
"Your setting and beckgrounds veritably suck!"--Practically everyone.
I think a lot about smoothness. I don't know how successful my powers of written smoothness are, but I think about structures which are more smooth than others. A lot of the time, when I stand up from writing, it's because I've got to a somewhat transitional point, and I need to go think about it for a while. Like in this one super-secret story I'm writing in the genre I've never tried before. I've gotten two thirds of the way in, and written a conversation, in which the main character made an important decision. And, at the end of the conversation, the main character must walk away. The way that this away-walking will be depicted will determine a lot of the mood that arises from the important decision that the main character has just made. I can make it sound final and grim, or triumphant and justifyably angry, or obnoxious and a lost cause, depending on the language. In movies, this is the point when there's no more talking for a bit, and just music, and the music dictates how the audience feels. Because I writeth, there's no music to put in.
I'm thinking this way: near the beginning, I described the surroundings. A third of the way in I did again after things changed. So I think I drop out this description of walking away--because all the ways I can think to do it sound lame and unaffecting--and describe the surroundings again. In a big, sweepy, overview way, so it's different than the last one. I've been pushing myself to do this whole surroundings description thingy because I've tended to leave setting out.
Yep. I never thought, before I wrote a lot, that so much technical thinking could go into arranging books. They always read like they'd just been sort of written out pell-nilly. Now I like the technicallity of arrangement.