Writing and Reading

There are some books out there with 5-page chapters, shorter paragraphs and shorter sentences. They’re pretty thrilling to read. Honest.

And then you have the longer, drawn-out novels that get you in depth in a character or a particular dramatic sequence of some kind–I’m talkin’ maybe 20-page chapters, more of a balanced mix of dialogue and narration. Also gripping to read (but for me, totally dependent on the genre–epic fantasy I’d definitely read at that pace).

I’m talking about pacing. I’m sure you writers out there have heard it from Nathan Bransford–pacing is key, and Dan Brown practically owns a few countries simply because he knows how to pace a story. Seriously, THE DA VINCI CODE has one major strong point–pacing.

I’m going to make one thing clear, though–pacing, like fight sequences (as many of you readers are still so interested in exploring within my blog), changes with the mood, the feel, the tension of the story.

What is pacing? It’s an enigmatic word, isn’t it? It blows my mind! Normally when we think of pace, we think of running. Or jogging. Or a triathlon. Okay, maybe only *I* do. I can’t assume that all of you think of it in the same way. But it’s kind of fun to believe that we’re all like-minded.

Let’s say you’re training–you’ve got your spandex shorts and tight tank on, beautiful bouncy tennis shoes on, purple headband on. Maybe your iPod’s strapped onto your waist, you’re playing music, sweat drips down your nose as you control your breathing, your legs build lactic acid like a slow-building open Mentos container that met just one drop of Pepsi.

Here’s the key point to training (now I sound like a fitness trainer rather than a creative writing connoisseur)….

Keeping a solid pace is essential. No deviation. In fact, we associate pace with consistency. In fact, it very much is important to keep the same solid pace or you’d wear yourself out. That’s what we think of when we hear the word…pacing.

Squash that concept as you would a blood-sucking mosquito intoxicating itself on your ass. Don’t worry. It’s easy. All you have to do is SIT DOWN. And thy mosquito hath been squashed on your ass, dear sir. THUSLY.

In writing, pacing is actually very different. Or I should say it can be. Forget all you know about what it means to ‘keep a pace’. You have been reborn with new knowledge, my son. Go forth and multiply.

Here are two examples: one written in a fast pace, the other written in a slow pace.

And….

So here we go: now, people, I read UNHOLY GRAIL by D.L. Wilson; and never in my life did I read 1- to 2-page chapters as in that book. I mean, it moved FAST. The pace took a cue from that of Dan Brown. The height of the so-called “religious thriller”. I had a creative writing manual once tell me the ’standard’ chapter length to be no less than 1 1/2 pages long. UNHOLY GRAIL broke that rule several times.

As for THE HISTORIAN, Elizabeth Kostova really does weave a mean leviathan of a paragraph, sweeping like a plague of locusts, all that blackness on the white space. Very slow-moving. Her chapters were so damn freakin’ LOOOOOOOOOONG!

Now, for me, the concept and style of THE HISTORIAN wasn’t for me. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t fit the concept or genre. I generally like a faster pace. Even better, I like a pace that varies in different places. It’s dramatic. I liked UNHOLY GRAIL because it was paced faster. But it wasn’t necessarily the best book I’ve ever read. It’s all subjective. My point, though, is this: a slow or fast pace doesn’t necessarily determine the readability or quality of the book.

Forget the cruise control. Let the pace go wherever the story leads it. Even those books that generally move at a deliberate pace sometimes deviate from that speed here and there, because the action may dictate the change.

You may find yourself writing a particularly suspenseful scene, one with very little dialogue; and the pace moves somewhat slower. Rightly so. It builds tension. It builds drama. It’s a lot like the ride up to the top of the first drop on a roller coaster. You can actually hear the clank-clank-clank on the wheels. And your heart begins to race.

Likewise, when you actually drop and you start screaming, cruise control goes out the window and you’re having fun! Action scenes rock, plain and simple. Chase scenes, fight scenes, streaming dialogue, a man with only 20 seconds left to diffuse a bomb with a paperclip and some silly putty (where’s MacGyver when you need him, right?), a tricycle race between three boozed-up dads in the middle of Wrigley Field (how funny would that be to watch?). A fast pace keeps the blood boiling.

Now where’s my sedative? Writing this post has gotten me worked up, too. And I got to remember to call MacGyver so he can come over and use his chewing gum to reactivate the cruise control in my car. Checkmark.