Day 331: Cheater-Cheater Pumpkin Eater

One thing I really enjoy doing in writing is hiding flaws in my writing ability. That sounds kinda lame, and it is in some ways, but it also teaches a lot of good skills. I could spend hours improving a specific piece of my writing through intensive research and training, or I could just fake it and move on, then go back and fix it in the future if I really need to. Often it ends up working just fine. That's why writing a story as best as I possibly can, I end up spending a lot of time in the search of workarounds. Some scenes are just beyond my ability. Not that I couldn't write them at all, just that I know they wouldn't be interesting to read, and if they're not going to be interesting, why bother? Unfortunately, many of those scenes also wind up being key to the plot. For those scenes that are too difficult to depict directly, but also necessary for the plot, I've learned a few common techniques I'd like to talk about here from my own perspective.

Obfuscate, obfuscate, obfuscate. Basically just hide everything that requires tricky dialogue, or intricate details, or a lot of boring exposition behind a smoke screen. This has been a great asset to me for things like fight scenes, describing large scale stuff like spaceships, and getting around holes in my knowledge base. Of course it can't be too obvious that you're hiding something for the sake of hiding it. There has to be a good reason you can't lay eyes on something directly. Like in original 'Jaws,' sometimes hiding your crappy animatronic shark beneath the water will make it ten times more effective than showing off exactly how much it doesn't look like a real shark. You can't get away with not showing a shark at all, but you can hide all the underdeveloped parts.

The greatest master of this is probably George Lucas. The man doesn't think anything through. I once saw an interview where he revealed that he had no idea what Yoda's backstory would be when he came up with a Jedi master for Luke to train under. He just put a little green dude on screen, made a vague reference to the Clone Wars that he'd already referenced once before, and somehow the viewer just fills in the rest. Of course Yoda is great master, just look at him. And he fought in the Clone Wars with Luke's dead father and Ben Kenobi? Must be a badass with a rich history. Meanwhile in reality not even George knew anything about where Yoda came from, who he trained with, how he learned so much about the force or even the real reason he ended up on Dagobah. It only felt like he did. Another great example is the one-liner about the Bothan spies that died to get the Death Star plans. He couldn't avoid giving Luke and co. the Death Star plans, but there wasn't enough screen time to show them going and getting it. So he covered it up with one throwaway line. That's just a giant plot hole when you think about it too hard. Like, what the hell is a Bothan Spy? Why did they have to die for the plans? He didn't even allude to them beforehand! He obviously wrote himself into a corner there and had to make up a way out on the spot. That's like every rookie writer's first mistake and he got away with it in one of the biggest series of all time. Talk about covering up a weakness.

On the other hand, obfuscating your strengths can also be a great tool. Using a bit of subtlety even when you know you could smash a direct depiction of something out of the park gives a reader the sense that whoever wrote this has a great deal of self-control and mastery. Then later, when you do actually reveal the obfuscated genius, it hits that much harder. This is the genius's xenomorph to the cheap trickster's animatronic shark.

This works for dialogue too. Sometimes I write dialogue that leaves a lot of room for the imagination without actually knowing what subtext I want to imply yet. This can go horribly wrong for many reasons, but usually works itself out after an editing pass. When I already know that a character has a history, but I don't know exactly what that history entails, I can still impregnate (I hate using that word like that but I don't have another one) the conversation with a lot of tension by leaving things unsaid. For example ...

"Two coffees," he told the waitress. "Black."
His date quirked an eyebrow, but didn't say anything until the waitress was out of earshot.
"Black? You were always a cream and sugar guy when I knew you. When did you start drinking it black?"
"Ever since Mozambique ... Back then I-"
"Oh God, don't start. I can't stand to hear about Mozambique again."
"Fine, fine. What do you want to talk about then?"
Etc.

That's a ham-fisted example, especially because I showed my hand before writing it, but I think it gets the point across. We both know I have no clue about what happened in Mozambique that would make this guy switch to black coffee. That's the point though. Later I can fill in this backstory depending on how the rest of the current story plays out, and any ideas that occur to me after writing this scene. If this were a comedy, the reason he can't stand cream and sugar anymore might be because it turned out his host was putting dog milk in the coffee the whole time, and when he found out it disgusted him so much he can't stand the thought of milk in his coffee anymore. If it's a romance, maybe he had a previous affair there that got him into expensive coffee. If it's a thriller, maybe his worst enemy was able to identify him because he always ordered a very specific type of coffee to his hotel room, and he'll never make the same mistake again because it got his partner killed. Whatever the case, the reader knows that this person had an experience in Mozambique, and more importantly, that you'll get to find out what happened later in the story.

Did you notice the other unsaid part of the dialogue?

"Black? You were always a cream and sugar guy when I knew you. When did you start drinking it black?"

These two know each other. They have history together too, which goes even further back than this guy's switch to black coffee. I know even less about their history than I know about Mozambique! But it probably didn't even draw your attention because you were so focused on the obvious obfuscation of the Mozambique backstory. While looking at the shark's fin above the water and wondering what the rest of the shark looks like, you may have failed to notice that it was all shot in a wave pool instead of the ocean.

Another technique I like to use is what I like to call a go-around. This one is simpler because nothing needs to be implied, but it's also much harder to identify. All the writer has to do is skirt around a hard scene like it isn't even there. Take a scene that would be incredibly difficult, say, you want have an evil Frenchman put together a poker game to fund a terrorist organization, just as they do in 'Casino Royale,' but you don't want to have to explain why a bunch of morally ambiguous rich people and spies would actually want to play poker with a megalomaniac who is well-known to be the best poker player around. The answer is: Just don't. An establishing scene might make sense, or it might draw attention to the fact that having Bond play poker with a bunch of known cheaters for money instead of just stealing it is totally bonkers. Somehow, people will make it make sense, even if it absolutely does not. This is also related to the 'rule of cool,' which I try to make heavy use of too.

The Rule of Cool is pretty simple. The cooler something is, the more likely you are to get away with it even if it doesn't really make that much sense. Once again, Lucas has everyone beat with lightsabers. All of Star Wars warps around lightsabers to make them a worthwhile weapon. The guns are blockable by lightsabers. The Jedi and Sith have powers that give lightsabers the only viable use case. An entire religion is built around them instead of just using a freaking gun. Why? Obviously it's because they're incredibly cool and the story wouldn't be the same without them, even if it's just a buff sword at the end of the day.

Superhero movies live and die on the rule of cool. If Captain America couldn't make his boomerang shield moves look awesome, nobody would put up with seeing a dude throw a shield when all his friends are shooting lasers, lightning, and ... wait, arrows? Seriously? He just ... has a bow? That's his superpower? Wtf?

Anyway, the point is, if you can't make something make sense, just make it so dang cool that it doesn't even matter.

Those are my favorites, but I'm sure there are a ton of tricks to get around actually putting some work in. Go find some of you own and let me know, because I would love to hear about some new ways to avoid writing!

Thank you for reading,

Benjamin Hawley