Telling Time Literary Style
During my critique group (with the Mississippi Valley Writers Guild) last week we were talking about the passing of time. We were specifically discussing best practices for showing the passage of time in our stories.
It is easy to fall into the trap of telling each and every little part of our characters’ days. They woke up; they ate breakfast. They went to work and had a meaningful conversation, and then went out to happy hour with a few co-workers and blah, blah, blah. The career pivoting conversation was the important part of the scene, but if we didn’t say the character ate scrambeled eggs and was annoyed by their morning commute, did it really happen? What could you leave out? And when could you hit the fast forward button? What should you absolutely not skip? Most importantly, what kinds of signal words should you be using to tell your reader the chronology of events without boring or confusing them?
We talked for awhile, mentioning points of our own manuscripts we felt could be improved, and then I had an idea. As a middle school reading and English teacher I often employed a strategy called “using a mentor text,” and it worked GREAT! By looking at published stories we admired, we saw what the desired end result could look like, and my students were able to make better attempts at achieving the goal we’d set out to pursue. I suggested to my critque group we do the same thing. “Let’s look at how the pros do it,” I said.
It’s a simple strategy, but one I often flounder to remember until I’ve tried (and failed with) a few other options. Whether I’m formatting a book and need to know which exact page the dedication should go on, or how an author handles chapter titles or any number of other writing considerations, I walk to my shelf, pull out a book in the same genre I’m attempting and simply look at the book as a sample of what I’m trying to achieve.
Daily Beast writer and author Malcom Jones said this, “If you assiduously (conscientiously) try to copy something, you can’t help learn about what you’re replicating.” Seems pretty smart right? And you know what else? It’s super easy and FREE to access.
So we all set out to pay attention to the way the author our our current reading selection showed the passing of time. We then took these model examples and tried their phrasing within our own work. Before you get prickly about this strategy, let me be clear. What we are doing is not copying, it’s learning. It’s taking a sentence structure template and applying our own characters, plot, voice and style. By the time our work has gone through several rounds of revision and is published, it is highly unlikely that the words remaning on the page even closely resemble those that inspired them. These mentor text selections are merely the jumping off point, the “start here” point on our writing journey.
Let me show you a few examples.
In this single page of Jefferson’s Sons there are at least five ways Kimberly Brubaker Bradley shows the passing of time, but my favorite one is this sentence:
“The year Peter turned nine, three important things happened.”
Not only does it tell us how old the main character is now, and consequently how much time as passed since the beginning of the story (presuming we knew how old he was then), it also sets up the chapter brilliantly. This single sentence lets us know that three big events are going to be talked about and thus, give us a mini outline of what is to come. It keeps the chapter focused and purposeful, both for the writer and the reader.
Here is my attempt at using this line within my own work.
Three guests visited Emmy at Sweet Shores on Tuesday, each one brining a surprising piece of news. The first arrived as she flipped the store sign from closed to open.
“Gloria!” Emmy greeted her old friend warmly. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this early morning visit?”
“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” Gloria said and laid a copy of the Duluth News Tribune down on the front counter.
See, it’s hardly the same, but studying a successful sentence written by a pro was enough of a nudge to get me going.
Here’s another one, from The Midnight Library by Matt Haig.
The time telling sentence I admired from this book was,
“Twenty seven hours before seh decided to die, Nora Seed sat on her dilapidated sofa scrolling through other people’s happy lives, waiting for something to happen. And then out of nowhere, something actually did.”
Not only does this sentence give of a reference of timing, it also builds anticiaption for events to come.
Here is my attempt at replicating these effects.
Four hours into her shift Emmy wasn’t sure she could take anymore surprises, but she wasn’t counting anthing out. Her grandma had always spouted the wives tale that things, good or bad, came in threes and Emmy had already received numbers one and two. Just before closing the store for the day, number three walked through her door.
Again, let me re-state that the process I’ve described and showcased above is a step along the way. We are not trying to pay our mortgage by stealing creative work from best selling authors. We are learning. We are studying. We are copying… for now, but not forever. Eventually the nuances of quality writing, the rhythm of an enchanting sentence, the unique observations and mastery of poetic language will be our own to wield with words on the page.
Do you have any favorite literary lines or time telling techniques that you’d like to share? Drop them in the comments; We’d love to learn from you as well.
Amanda Zieba is a local La Crosse word nerd and divides her time between teaching, writing and raising good humans. You can learn more about her and her work on her website, www.amandazieba.com.