YOUR WRITING WORKSHOPPED Like a version

James McCreet solves a reader’s short story problem as they go through a workshopping process that takes a story from first to final draft

Alan Brett’s original 900-word story was an ambitious attempt to fuse big themes, metaphors, family dynamics and a long chronology. The main issue was that it had virtually no scenes. It was mostly authorial summary – classic telling rather than showing – so it read more like a sketch or an essay bookended by a relatively forced image. The theme behind the story was much more forceful than the story itself, overpowering it.

You can read the original version here: https://www.writers-online.co.uk/howto-write/your-writing-workshoppedthe-love-of-music/

One of Alan’s initial concerns with the piece was whether the characters were credible. The problem was that they hadn’t yet come alive on the page. They were authorial puppets and barely spoke. Another question was whether Alan should write so overtly about political/ religious tensions and a real person,

Daniel Baremboim, who set up the Unity Orchestra. These were far less pressing concerns than a lack of compelling narrative. A good story, well told, is what we were after and the subject could have been anything (short of defamatory).

The strongest presence in the story was the author himself and what he wanted to discuss, so we needed to find a narrative core. I asked a few questions:

• What do you see as the core of the story?

• How would you summarise it in a sentence?

• If you could narrate just one scene from this whole tale, which would it be and where would it take place?

• Is it important to you that the reader believes this to be based in a specific reality?

• What single thought would you like the reader to take away from the story?

• Could you imagine telling this story in the voice of one of its characters? If so, who?

On the basis of Alan’s answers, we decided that he would build the story around a conversation between his two characters Benjamin and Leila and he would write a new, shorter version that was all drama with almost no authorial commentary. The conductor, who had previously been the focus of the story, now took more of a background role because that was another story in itself.

Speaking well

The new version was much improved (and very quickly done!) However, now the story was mostly people speaking and had to work as realistic dialogue that would show the characters’ personalities. There were a few issues, the most serious of which was overt signalling.

Alan had taken much of the background context and put it into the character’s mouths – a common form of authorial ventriloquism. Alas, ventriloquists’ puppets are seldom credible as sapient beings. For example, a character says:

“. . . it all seems so surreal, you being Israeli and me a Palestinian.

Our families are stuck in a culture of hostilities that divided us until the Maestro appeared on the scene and gave us a way out with his Unity Orchestra. Families are important, but so is happiness and peace. I’m just so worried that it can’t last . . .”

This sounds false and contrived. People don’t speak like this, telling each other what they already know for the reader’s benefit. My advice was to find ways to transmit only the most relevant information in ways that

would seem more like human speech. For example:

“It all seems so surreal. If someone had told me even five years ago I’d meet, let alone fall in love with and marry an Israeli man . . . Only music could have done this.”

“Thanks to the Maestro.”

“Exactly. I wish he could speak to our parents!”

“No. They wouldn’t listen. They’re beyond listening [do impression of mother here]”

The key to this story was Hemingway’s so-called Iceberg

Principal: that a good story is often mostly below the surface – alluded to, hinted at and influencing what we see on the surface. When people speak, they do so with a pre-existing understanding of context. They don’t say something like, “You know you have a sister called Sarah?” They say, “Is Sarah at home these days?”

One niggling problem with the story’s structure was why the two characters were going to meet their maestro in the concert hall at the end. From the beginning, the purpose was to give him their selections for their wedding music. However, these selections could have meant nothing at all to readers who don’t know classical music. Even if you did know the pieces, their revelation had no special bearing on the foregoing story. It wasn’t an ending and it didn’t match the theme. Might they give their benefactor a gift? Might he have some paperwork for them?

There was also a challenge with cliché, exaggeration and formulaic language in general. I advised Alan to cut things like, cheered her up no end and bring tears to the eyes of an angel, which do no credit to any piece of writing.

Final polish

Alan’s next version was better still and again very rapid. He followed the Hemingway advice and made a good job of slipping the context into his characters’ conversation. The story was about 98% ready and the ending more of an ending as they gave the Maestro a gift. With his agreement, I then did a light edit of my own so that he could see what changes I was making. These fell into three broad categories:

• Making the dialogue patterns a little more authentic.

• Changing telling to showing.

• Reconfiguring the ending for more thematic finality.

• Correcting any spelling, grammar and punctuation mistakes.

For example, the second-version dialogue was:

“We’ve done pretty well in such a short time don’t you think? We’ve a nice flat, a job with the Maestro’s orchestra here in beautiful Rome, really looking forward to that, and the wedding arrangements are in hand.”

There’s no reason he would say all of these things she already knows. It was necessary to somehow convey the same information in a more natural way and with choppier voice rhythms (that would also give them a reason to go to the concert hall):

“You remember we’re going to meet the Maestro this afternoon, right?” he said. “Before we go back to the flat. I’d almost forgotten. So kind of him to arrange the music for our wedding. I hope he likes our choices for the service. And I want to ask him about that right-to-work documentation. Bloody red tape! Do you have the gift for him?”

Another example of over-explaining (and imposing authorial voice) was:

“Don’t you think by leaving the past behind us, and being welcomed by the Italians, we could choose Italian equivalents?”

Changed to the more conversational and low-key:

“I was thinking maybe Italian equivalents – you know, as they’ve welcomed us here.”

Some traces of telling remained, especially describing how the characters felt. This can be done in dialogue or through describing physical actions. The first version was:

They both had a good laugh, and it did bring to Leila a degree of reassurance. She relaxed a little, squeezed his hand and replied...

This is the author doing all the work. We should let the character show us. Thus: “Oh Ben!” she said, leaning back a little in her chair, still squeezing his hand. “That impression gets me every time!”

The earlier version had the couple giving their music choices to the famous conductor and then going off for a lasagna and to make some babies. It was a better ending than the first version, but it made the appearance of the maestro seemed a little rushed or forced. He came in just to finish the story. Adding the gift, the documents and the music selection brought everything together at the same time and the final whistling notes were a fitting thematic nod to the importance of their maestro and the music bringing them together.

After making these various small changes, I asked Alan to agree to them. After all, this would be his work appearing in the magazine under his name. Did he stand by the final version? He did. More importantly, he’d taken an accelerated journey through a few versions of his own idea, improving it each time with clearer focus and some essential craft techniques.

All credit to Alan. It’s difficult for any writer to be told that the version they’ve worked hard on needs to be almost completely rewritten – a few times! Alan took the feedback and put it immediately to use without being affected by ego. The result is a considerably improved take on his original idea, containing the same themes but now more of a pleasure for the reader.