HOW MANY NAMES IS TOO MANY?

 Some years back, a publishing professional suggested I not introduce so many characters by name in the first chapter.

I counted the names in chapter one of the manuscript. There were six fully named, plus three who were mentioned by function, not a name. (Think “her uncle” or “his teacher.”)

Was this too many? She was a publishing professional, so I revised. I found another way to introduce the named operators of the story. A technique I borrowed from a book I read when I was ten served its purpose. After all, the publishing professional specifically said young readers couldn’t hold that many names right off the bat, and bringing up Tolstoy’s War and Peace with his propensity to name hundreds of characters would not be a proper defense. Anyway, I was not writing an epic novel. This was a spy story for middle grade readers.

 

I remembered this advice, and have counted the number of characters introduced by name in the first chapter(s) ever since. No matter that an award-winning writer of middle grade novels ignores this advice, (not naming him. I like his books) and that less than lauded books I have read and respected don’t follow it. I’m not in their league, and so I heed this generally good guidance.

 

How many is too many? I try to name four or less. General advice is not to exceed ten to fifteen in the story as a whole. There will be time for other names to come in and go out. First chapters should focus on attachment to the main character. Many names will only serve to distance, and even not so young readers might close the book before they reach the second chapter.

SUBPLOT VS. SUBTEXT

 

The prefix “sub” (when not a colloquial for substitute, or the famed sandwich-making chain) means below or underneath.

 

In this way, a sub-plot is a secondary story plot interwoven with the primary plot.

 

Sub-text is what is meant by dialogue, when a character says one thing but means another.

 

Good stories can have a few subplots, which serve to enhance, foreshadow, and augment the main story. They can become the readers’ more entertaining chain of events to follow, in which case they technically fail to be “sub” and in a way take over the story.

 

Subtext serves many of the same functions. This post elaborates on subtext.

 

Subtext can never take over. It only hits the spot for sophisticated readers who are experienced in life’s many unsaid sayings. In stories for young readers, subtext may go over the reader’s head, but they serve to expose them to this phenomenon in life. When a character says “you never looked better,” they may be saying you rarely look good. The second character knows full well what is meant, and responds with "Your words are always beyond kind." They mean the first speaker's cruelty has been registered. 

It takes life experience to understand layered meaning.

 

I never worry if a reader will understand. They will or they won’t, or they may upon re-reading sometimes many years later. A story must hold their attention just as it is. Layers woven will communicate at the reader’s pace.

 

If I heard it once, I heard it many times. “Will kids get this?”

 

I suggest not to be concerned about such. The only question is, will kids find the story enjoyable and worth reading to the end.

A Giant Valentine

 

What the world needs now

is LOVE, sweet LOVE

It's the only thing that there's just too little of
What the world needs now is love, sweet love
No not just for some, but for everyone

 

Songwriters: Burt F. Bacharach / Hal David

 

Burt Bacharach passed away last week. 

The world continues to need love as much as ever.

M is for MOTIVATION

 

Motivation—the kind that propels our actions (such as my writing this post) is key to a good story.

As a Beta reader, I have read manuscripts that had the plot move in just the right pace with all the arc points reached as a good story requires, and with the bonus of some surprises. “Save the Cat” and other how-to books on storytelling have done their job, and writers know what are the considered “must-haves.”

I’ve read some stories where the setting was interesting, the main character fully fleshed, and the descriptions added color in just the right amount. These are the craft aspects of good writerly executions.

But what is often not fully attended to is the motivation. Specifically, all the major characters’ motivations. This is most true with the so-called “quiet” stories, the ones that are reflective and capture a moment in time. Lyrical, lovely, just stop and smell the lilacs. All good. But what happens if the main character doesn’t?

Some refer to this aspect as “the stakes.” In stories where the stakes are not what drives them, there should still be a reason for characters to act the way they do, and the reasons should be compelling.

So, motivation. Reminder to self: a strong motivation drives the vehicle. Step on the internal gas pedal.