Candy Gourlay Battles Exposition at the SCBWI Retreat

by Jo Wyton

Guest Blogger

Jo Wyton is another talented writing buddy from SCBWI. She is a geologist with a thoroughly impractical interest in rocks and an even more impractical interest in getting published. With deadlines looming, she is desperately trying to prop up the pile of unfinished manuscripts on her desk with one hand whilst trying to chase the elusive words 'The End' with the other. For some reason, she’s chosen to try doing that with two manuscripts at the same time. Eejit.

Exposition? Who, me?

Exposition. It’s a word most writers hate. Exposition is boring. Lots of drawn out explanations and backstory that’s guaranteed to persuade a reader to close the book and put it down.

Candy Gourlay’s advice to writers at the recent SCBWI retreat?

Cut it out.

Get rid of it.

Go on – you know you want to… (she’s very persuasive like that you know…)

Advice to hit the delete button usually leaves writers in one of three states:

One: smelling the roses 

Two: you can't be serious?!

Three: uncontrollable hysteria

Except don’t just delete it.

Not yet.

Read it – figure out why you wrote it in the first place. Exposition is dull, but it’s usually been written for a reason. Are you explaining the rules of the world your character has found himself in? Or perhaps your character is remembering an important event that the reader needs to know about? The way forward, says Candy, is to ‘break it down and build it in’.

Don't leave your readers feeling the weight of exposition

Disseminate the information as much as possible; hide it away in action if you can.

You just need to find the right way to slide it in, so the reader doesn’t even notice what you’re doing.

Health warning: Thinking about exposition may have horrible side effects. The next morning one retreatee was found to have developed a phobia of her laptop, refusing to write any more in fear of exposition spilling onto the page in an unprecedented bid for freedom. Others collapsed at the dinner table from sheer exhaustion after spending the night searching for exposition in their manuscripts.

Exposition Exhaustion

If you want to be really sneaky (and who doesn’t?) you can use your exposition even better than that. If you break it down you can use it to generate more story. 

Take that small piece of exposition that you think your reader simply can’t live without, and spin it out – create a new chapter, or a new sub-plot, or, a new character. Sometimes, you can go the whole hog and generate a whole new story.

Take any section of exposition in your manuscript, however big or small, and grab some coloured pencils (usually the key to editing – lots of coloured pencils). Draw a box around each separate fact or piece of information you are trying to feed to your reader. Then look at each one separately and think about its potential.

Candy wasn't quite prepared for the level of love some people have for their exposition

Candy used an example from an old version of her novel Tall Story. In it, she had written a few sentences about one of her characters, Andi, and her failure to get on the school’s basketball team. But that particular titbit was too interesting for Candy to leave it hidden away in exposition.

If you’ve read Tall Story in its published form, you’ll know that Andi now gets entire chapters devoted to her trying to get onto the basketball team. For Candy, this one piece of exposition spawned a sub-plot that threads right from the start of the book to its conclusion.

AHA! Exactly the advice I was in need of! I looked down at 2,000 words of a new novel sitting on my laptop, and Hey Presto, Taadaa and Huzzah.

Because here’s the thing: as someone who’s still learning how to structure a novel, I often find I rush it. I write a full novel’s worth of plot in ten pages. But Candy told us to break down what we’ve written and look at it differently.

At the time, I had about 2,000 words of a new novel in front of me. Or did I? What I think I’ve actually got is a 2,000 word plot outline for half a novel. Now if only Candy would offer to write it for me too…

The talk was called Weightwatchers for Novelists: How to Lose Exposition and Add Meaning - 28 May 2011, SCBWI Retreat, Dunford House, West Sussex

Inspired by ... Ghosts

By Fiona Dunbar
Guest Blogger

So here's a blog idea: what inspired your current work-in-progress? Do tell us in a comment or in a blog post (send us the link so that we can list it at the bottom of this post). Our askee in this post is  Fiona Dunbar, author of Toonhead, The Pink Chameleon, and  the Lulu Baker trilogy. Fiona has a new ghost mystery series starring Kitty Slade, who has something called phantorama - the power to see ghosts!

When Candy and I were discussing possible subjects for my Slushpile post the other day, she suggested I might like to do a piece on ghosts in children's literature that inspired me. 'But I can't think of a single one!' I said. And it's true: although I'm writing a six-book series of ghostly mystery stories for children, other ghost stories for kids are not what inspired me to do this.

My actual starting point was the desire to write a sort of Famous Five series for the 21st century, i.e. kids solving mysteries. I just find that premise utterly irresistible - always have. Then the ghosty thing started creeping in - as ghosty things are wont to do - and the whole axis shifted. I found myself merging the mystery-solving idea with a draft of an unfinished story from 2005 called Kit & Nan. You know how it is: you start out with a story, thinking, 'this is gonna be great!' and then...pfft. But it was a good premise, and I didn't want to waste it: in it went.



Anyway, Candy's suggestion got me thinking. It's not as if nothing I've read or seen has informed my Kitty Slade stories. What was it that got my supernatural juices flowing? So here they are: my Top Five Ghostly Inspirations:

1. Morris

Morris is the sublimely revolting creation of Hilary Mantel, in her book Beyond Black. The book is about a medium, Alison, who tours the country doing shows in which she contacts people's dead relatives for them. She is only able to do this because she has a spirit guide - i.e. a ghost that contacts the other ghosts for her. This is Morris. Alison did not seek out Morris: she did not choose him. She just...got him. He is a lowlife, disgusting in ways I cannot mention here; I felt deeply sorry for Alison, while at the same time weeping with laughter. What a delicious irony Mantel has presented us with: without Morris, Alison has no livelihood - and yet he is unbearable.

Alison wonders what she did to deserve him: he chuckles and says 'count your blessings girl, you fink I'm bad but you could of had...Pikey Pete [or] my mate Keef Capstick.' I shuddered to think what Pikey Pete or Keef Capstick were like.

I don't have anyone quite like Morris in the Kitty Slade stories (God forbid!) but there is a character in book four (sorry, you'll have to wait a while!) that in retrospect I realise probably owes something to Morris, in that she's extremely annoying but unavoidable, as Kitty needs her help.

Funnily enough, looking back over Beyond Black now, I see that Alison first encounters Morris when she is thirteen - the same age at which Kitty develops her phantorama. SO glad for Alison that she wasn't any younger...

2. The Canterville Ghost

I thought about putting Jacob Marley in this list, but then I remembered that although I am a huge Dickens fan, A Christmas Carol is my least favourite of his works.

And actually, the ghosts in my stories are not in the least bit like Marley. And nor, indeed, is Oscar Wilde's Canterville Ghost. He would so love to be Jacob Marley: he rattles chains and suits of armour and tries all manner of tricks and guises to scare off the Otises, the American family who have just moved into Canterville Chase.

But when he appears to Mr Otis, complete with Marley-esque rusty chains and manacles, the American merely presents him with a bottle of lubricant, and goes back to bed. When he moans and groans in the night, Mrs Otis offers him a cure for indigestion. The younger Otis children actually end up terrifying him, rather than the other way round.



Interestingly, it is only the teenage daughter, Victoria, who takes him seriously, and wants to help him reach his final resting place.

In a similar way, Kitty's objective in each of my stories is to help a ghost to carry out the unfinished business that's keeping them trapped in the mortal realm.

I don't think you have to have a scary ghost in order to have a scary ghost story: it helps, but a lot of the build-up of tension - in my stories, at least - has to do with the perilous situations Kitty and her siblings find themselves in, as a result of the ghostly intervention.

3. An American Werewolf In London

I cannot overstate how much I rate this film. I majorly heart it. And when a book or a movie affects you in that way, it seeps into your DNA, becoming a part of what you produce. It helps that I was roughly the same age as its protagonists when it came out: I was slap bang in the middle of the target demographic.

But more to the point, it is the best example I can think of anywhere, in books, films, TV, of something that is both funny and scary at the same time. And that is what I set out to do with Kitty - albeit in a PG-rated way! I hope I succeed.



Of course, An American Werewolf is not a ghost story but a horror film. But there is a haunting of sorts - though in this case by the character Jack, who is undead, rather than properly dead. But unlike the zombies you usually encounter in horror films, Jack has an agenda: there is something that must happen (in case you haven't seen the film, I won't say what!) in order for him to be released from his purgatory-like existence. In a similar way, all the main ghosts in my Kitty stories need her to do something, so they can be fully released into the spirit realm.

4. Scooby-Doo
As I have remarked elsewhere, I couldn't have given Kitty a dog - especially one that went round with her all over the place, being her canine assistant. Not only would that have been too Famous Five, but what with the ghosts and the camper van, even a non-talking dog might have tipped it too much in the direction of Scooby-Doo territory. Not that I felt any special need to add a dog anyway, I should add.

So what is it about all those childhood hours of watching Scooby that informed what I'm doing now? Again, it's just in my DNA. I like that combination of ghosts, fun and mystery. The 'mysteries' in Scooby-Doo, as I remember, always seemed to end up with some fraudster pretending to be a ghost, but we didn't care: it was just so much fun.



Ghosts + fun + mystery: that is exactly what I'm doing here, pure and simple. Only with, dare I say it myself, proper mysteries with outcomes you're not going to guess.

5. The Graveyard Book

This deserves a special mention, even though you could say it doesn't count as pure 'inspiration', as I didn't read it until I'd already written Kitty books one and two. But inspiration doesn't stop happening once you've embarked on a project: it goes on happening.

Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book rightly attracted a clutch of awards, while up and down the country and around the world, other authors were slapping their heads, crying, "a Jungle Book set in a graveyard: why didn't I think of that?" I was one of them. A Mowgli figure, only raised by ghosts...how fantastic!



And Gaiman pulls it off brilliantly, too. So even though most of my inspiration comes from other sources, every now and then I read a children's book like this and think 'Yes! Here is the reason I'm writing this kind of book.' Sadly, it also reminds me that I'm not Chris Riddell...

Incidentally, the graveyard of the title is based on Highgate Cemetery, which is near where I live - but I won't be setting a Kitty story there. Wonderful though it is, I feel it's been 'done' enough already.

There is, however, another spooky North London setting that I will be using in the sixth book.

You won't guess it...

********************************

MC Rogerson is inspired by pagan mysteries on the Life Beyond blog

Caroline Lawrence is inspired by music over on Wondrous Reads and by gritty westerns on her Flavia blog

The Arvon Experience

By Maureen Lynas

It is possible that my experience of going on a Writing for Children, course at the Lumb Bank Arvon Centre, in 2010, was unusual. It is possible that I am prone to exaggeration.

It is also possible that I live a very sheltered writerly life in my loft with only my keyboard for company, and I succumbed to ‘Writer’s Euphoria’ in the presence of seventeen other children’s authors. But I don’t think so. Because I wasn’t the only author who had tears in her eyes as we said our farewells on the last morning. Some authors even threatened a ‘sit in’, but were encouraged by the lovely staff to, ‘Go home!’

So why didn’t we want to leave?

Could it have been the accommodation and setting? 

Lumb Bank is a wonderful old building perched on the side of a hill near Hebden Bridge. 

The isolation and fantastic scenery make you think you are in another world, completely cut off from your normal life.

 The room we worked, and ate in, had a huge table, big enough for eighteen to sit around comfortably and had fantastic views out over the valley. There were lots of comfy sofas in the sitting room, and the barn conversion, and we were encouraged to treat the place as our own for the week. Which we did.

The bedrooms are deliberately furnished sparsely. 

This is not the Hilton, or even a Premier Inn, in fact one student referred to her room on first viewing as ‘a pokey hole’ but had to be dragged kicking and screaming out of her‘pokey hole’ on the last morning. It can be cold up there and they recommend warm clothing – they even provide hot water bottles. But I would recommend taking your own, just in case.

All in all I would describe the centre as homely, and very relaxing. But I’m not sure that’s why we didn’t want to leave.

So maybe it was the tutors?

I don’t know if we were just lucky but our tutors were extremely supportive, non-judgemental and generous with their time. And as well as running (and participating in) the workshops they both held a one to one session with each author to discuss work we’d brought with us. They are prolific authors: Malachy Doyle writes a range of books from picture books (The Dancing Tiger, When a Zeeder met a Xyder), to teen fiction, (Georgie and Who is Jessie Flood); Julia Golding writes for older children Cat Royal, Companion Quartet, and Darcy Lock. You can see the full range at their websites, www.malachydoyle.co.uk, www.juliagolding.co.uk

Then we had the fabulous David Almond as guest speaker who oozed calmness and confidence and treated everyone as if they had already reached their goal of becoming authors of children’s fiction. I was shocked to hear it had taken him twenty years to get his first book published but reassured too - for me, it meant that I didn’t have to feel despondent for at least another ten years! He was inspirational.

But I’m not sure that was it either.

So, was it the structure of the day?

Slaving over a hot workshop from 9.30 until 12.30. Lunch, then time out to write, walk, talk, think, doze, talk, read, doze, write, talk, chill until 7pm. Sit around the huge table and eat the tasty concoction created by today’s group of volunteer chefs (more about cooking later), drink wine, then an evening activity of readings by the tutors or guest speaker. There was the possibility of a night out at the pub but we changed this to an evening of ‘Interview the Author’ that I was delighted to host. I would like to thank the tutors for their openness in answering such in depth questions as ‘Reliant Robin or Bicycle?’ and ‘What is your favourite six syllable word?’ (Thank you to Clare for those two suggestions!) Very enlightening.

Or was it the food?

The food was delicious. Help yourself to breakfast of cereal, toast, or fruit. Lunch was laid out by the staff – lots of cheeses, meats, breads, salad, etc. Plus cake. Then we had a rota for cooking the evening meal. We signed up into groups of four; each group washed up one night and cooked the next. All of the ingredients were provided, along with very clear instructions, and a member of staff was on hand to advise and rectify any disasters. Not that we had any!

So was it the workshops?

Julia and Malachy’s brief seemed to be to help us become writers in general, not just writers of children’s fiction. To help us to find our voice and to challenge us to think in different ways. 

To say I was nervous of producing work on demand would be an understatement, and to say I was alone in my stammering and heart racing would be a lie. But watching the confidence of the group growing, watching the trust developing, listening to seventeen other voices producing seventeen different responses to identical tasks was amazing. It sent out a clear message – your best writing will be written in your own voice. So let it out.

Speaking of confidence – we were told at the initial, ‘Hello, Welcome to Lumb Bank, Have a Large Piece of Cake, meeting, that on the last night we would all perform one piece of work from the week. There were big gasps of horror and much blood draining from many faces. Then, by the time Friday came, we were moaning and complaining – Only one! Are you sure? I have at least three! I was not the only one to release my inner exhibitionist, and that was before the wine!

And also speaking of confidence – people laughed at my work. Which was brilliant! As an author of funny fiction it was a relief to know that I was hitting some giggling bones. Excellent.

Maybe that was it then. Or maybe it was the students.

It started out well. Lots of smiles. Lots of, ‘Where have you come from? Really? All that way? And what about you? Really? All that way. Gosh.’ And then it just got better and better. I can honestly say I have never laughed so much in one week in my entire life. It was a girls only group, apart from Malachy, and people bonded over writing, bonded over walking, bonded over books, bonded over wine, bonded over their personal histories, their children, their goals, their future. We were so bonded there was no need for glue. And we have kept in touch through an email group and friends are meeting up all over the place, Paris, York, Birmingham, Edinburgh and Newcastle. And lots of us have become members of SCBWI and are meeting up at the Winchester Conference.

Was it worth the money?

Definitively. I would have paid again to stay another week. Arvon has just received extra funding so for the first time you can apply for a full grant and they encourage people to apply.

Would I go on another – just let me pack my bag!

So, I think it was the whole package, the whole Lumb Bank Experience that took a group of wannabe’s and sent them back out into the world with the following message -  Find out why you want to write. Find out what you want to write. Find out who you are writing for. And write!

Read more Slushpile experiences at Arvon

Candy's Arvon course with Malorie Blackman and Melvin Burgess

Jo's Arvon course with Celia Reese, Linda Newbery and Gillian Cross