Friday, December 27, 2013

Telling Stories (Part 7 of 10)

Occasionally I read an illustration that refers to the girl or the man. We go along for two or three pages until the author says, "Her name was Cynthia and this is my story." No one cares about Cynthia and withholding her name doesn't add anything.

By contrast, years ago I read the autobiography of the late actress Frances Farmer. Her 54-word opening stayed with me because of what she revealed and what she withheld:
For eight years I was an inmate in a state asylum for the insane. During those years I passed through such unbearable terror that I deteriorated into a wild, frightened creature intent only on survival.

And I survived.
I was raped by orderlies, gnawed on by rats, and poisoned with tainted food.

And I survived.[1]
Her opening arouses emotions. She puts readers right in the middle of her pain. She didn’t clog the writing with dates or reasons for her incarceration. She saved lesser details for later. That makes good writing.

I focus on reader involvement—
that's the best way to start a writing project.

* * * * *

[1] Will There Really Be a Morning? By Frances Farmer (New York: Dell Publishing, 1982) p. 9.

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