I’m terrible at transitions, you know, moving characters from scene to scene. My wife the editor tells me so all the time. Maybe I’m bad at them because I just plain hate writing them.
You’re a writer, you know how it is. There’s always something your just not good at writing, and typing it out is always a painful chore.
For me, it’s the laborious task of getting characters from here to there so that they can meet up with each other. It takes so long and is so hard to not write a transition scene that is empty-headed and shallow because really it’s not a scene at all. It’s just movement.
I read a piece of e-fiction this week that has a great story. You could tell the author was having a blast.
But to get to the actual story, you had to wade through pages of uninteresting setup, with throw-away characters and dull, half-hearted descriptions. You could so easily tell that the author didn’t enjoy writing that part, but felt it had to be in the book. You can hear him whispering “don’t worry, the good parts are really good!”
You and I are writing in a time much like that of William Shakespeare. In his day, there were no mega-publishers. Just small-time patrons to help you sell your work.
Most of the publishing and the selling was done by you.
And won’t you now take a look at the online marketplace for books? Are you not writing posts on your blog to sell your book?
Is it not the same, Iago?
I mention that because of this e-fiction I read.
This author published his book, hoping you’d see past the heartless parts and enjoy what he really wanted you to read.
Like dancing with a wooden leg, I ask you to watch my arms and my torso and my good leg and enjoy the show. Wooden leg? Oh, just ignore that.
I suck so completely at writing transition scenes that my wife the editor told me to stop trying.
“You’re no good at them, and they ruin the flow of the story.”
So, I quit writing transition scenes, and my story is muuuuuuch better. The new novel, which is waiting to be read by a certain my-wife-the-editor, has none. Zero.
He braved the dark and frightening alleyway, his heart in his throat, finally breathing a sigh of deep relief as he entered the warm, cheerful pub. See? No long description. Just get him in there!
Better yet, ignore the transition altogether and start the scene with the character in the pub. He can explain the transition in dialog: “Oh, I came down the alleyway – a dark and frightening bit of roadwork was that!”
No transition. No hard, stupid scene. Bye bye.
If it’s painful for you to write, you can believe that it’s painful for your reader, too.
I enjoyed the e-fiction, and so entirely hope this author writes another.
And, although I haven’t said it before, I truly do thank you from the very bottom of my heart for following me!
John D Reinhart 