Make it Enjoyable

While you’re editing your story to make sure that in every scene,

• the characters are trying to do something that either increases or decreases stakes and internal and external conflict,

• events occur that cause your characters to react with actions, thoughts, and feelings,

• the setting is visually discernible,

• your prose is clearer than you think it should be,

• your prose focuses on the effects of what is happening instead of labeling the scene with terms like hot or cold (“Even Emily’s fingernails chattered”),

make certain that every page of your story is enjoyable.

“What? I did that already.”

Moments of distraction

Some time ago, I noticed that if I printed out a portion of one of my stories and went to a public place with a raucous, obnoxious swirl of commotion, I could read along and make improvements in my story until something distracted me.

I learned that during those moments of distraction, my stories were the weakest.  I would review what I was reading when the moment occurred, and sure enough, the section was uninteresting, unnecessary, or poorly written.

It has since become a superpower that has never failed me.  Why watch Marvel movies when I can sit in a noisy place (Marvel movies are noisy, too) and experience true manifestations of power?  For free.

To nail the point home, if you’re editing your story, your speech for work, your letter to Aunt Josaphine, or your sermon for church, and you--

• notice the cute baby across the concourse,

• hear a bird you’ve never heard before,

• smell something coming from the Krispy Kreme store down the street,

your work is not strong enough.

Enjoyable?

But then recently I learned something even more astonishing.

While editing pages in my cacophonous world, I’ll get to a section and say to myself, “Oh, this part of the story isn’t as interesting.  I’ll skip it and move on to the next part.”

Whoa!  Halt!  Stop!

I don’t know why it took me so long to realize this, but when I come to a part I feel like skipping, that is the part that needs my attention the most.

• Is it too long?

• Is it unnecessary?

• Is it emotionally impactful?

• Does it provide too much or too little information?

• Does it forward the story (or point) in the best way possible?

During the big game, would you ignore your problem child as he cries to you for help, his arms outstretched, his eyes tearing? Or would you stop and help your humble child?

The same goes for your story, sermon, professional briefing, letter to your aunt, or eulogy. They deserve more attention from you than the bird attacking the old lady across the park.

Don’t think for a moment that this principle is limited to fiction.  I’m absolutely confident that if an angel appeared to you in gleaming white, he would have spent some time thinking about what to tell you before he appeared.  He would have chosen the best words and used sentences that are as clear as possible and no longer than necessary.

He would keep your attention.

When you come to a less interesting part in your story or any part of your life, stop everything and work to fix it until it gleams brighter than Galadriel’s circlet.

If any part of your story, sermon, professional briefing, letter to your aunt, or eulogy is boring to you, it will be more boring to your readers or listeners.

General George S. Patton

As an example of someone who knows how to keep people’s attention, I’ve provided for you the beginning of General Patton’s speech to the troops of the United States Third Army in 1944, before the Allied invasion of France during World War II:

“Be seated.

“Men, all this stuff you hear about America not wanting to fight, wanting to stay out of the war, is a lot of horse shit.  Americans love to fight.  All real Americans love the sting and clash of battle.  When you were kids, you all admired the champion marble shooter, the fastest runner, the big-league ball players, and the toughest boxers.  Americans love a winner and will not tolerate a loser.  Americans play to win all the time.  I wouldn't give a hoot in hell for a man who lost, and laughed.  That's why Americans have never lost and will never lose a war.  The very thought of losing is hateful to America.  Battle is the most significant competition in which a man can indulge.  It brings out all that is best, and it removes all that is base.”

His speech ends with the following:

“There's one thing you men will be able to say when this war is over, and you get back home.  Thirty years from now when you're sitting by your fireside with your grandson on your knee, and he asks, “What did you do in the great World War Two?”  You won't have to cough and say, “Well, your granddaddy shoveled shit in Louisiana.”  No sir, you can look him straight in the eye and say, “Son, your granddaddy rode with the great Third Army and a son-of-a-goddamned-bitch named George Patton!

“All right, you sons of bitches.  You know how I feel.  I'll be proud to lead you wonderful guys in battle anytime, anywhere.  That's all.”

Every word from his mouth encouraged and motivated his troops because he knew them. They, in turn, honored every word he delivered.

Like Patton, you are a general. But you're facing an even larger opposing army.  You must convince your troops to enjoy the battle more than anything else they could be doing and want more of it.

How to make it enjoyable?

I can tell you what I like most from stories.  If I’m like the rest of you, here is my recipe to make the best stories:

1. Make everything count.  Any description, thought, feeling, or action presented on the page must be used later in the story.  Don’t let the reader think she’s wasting her time. Ensure that everything the characters think, feel, or do affects the rest of the story, and everything that occurs in the story emotionally and physically affects the characters.

2. Create genuine, emotionally relatable characters that you could know at your workplace, in your neighborhood, or at the store.

3. Create natural, organic conflict that makes sense to your readers even though it’s a surprise to them.

4. Have your story present a unique idea.

5. Provide sufficient time in your story for the most important parts.  Cut away pages for the least important parts.

6. Provide an impactful and, in my opinion, satisfying resolution.

7. Demand perfection of yourself as the author.

Bend it, amp it, drive it, and strip it.

— Elizabeth Sims

And finally

When you’re editing your work at home, and your wife rushes to you and says, “Honey, an airplane just crashed in front of our house,” and you look up and say, “Really?” then you’re getting close to something good.