There is a ubiquitous how-to
writing suggestion to cut any of the text which isn’t serving the plot. This
includes description of landscape, weather, and general sideshows.
Writers of yore had no such compunctions,
and leisurely took us to places where we stopped and smelled the roses before
resuming the characters’ journeys to their resolutions. Poor Tolstoy would have
been eviscerated by contemporary editors for the almost novella-length chapters
that veered off the plot. I know, I read War and Peace, the whole thing.
Today, we are told we don’t have
the time. Readers don’t have the patience. No one can stand still and wait for
the narration when it takes the slightest rest.
I had an editor tell me that a
half-page section of dialogue, while hilarious, didn’t advance the action. When
I suggested it served both as more character revelation and also for comic relief,
the editor’s response was that readers, especially young ones, don’t have the
time for that. Cut, cut, CUT.
And, for that matter, also cut the
view of the countryside as seen by the main character from the moving train
window. Never mind that the train is moving fast. The plot is what must move here,
so unless there’s a killer on the train who’s looking for our hero, we don’t
need to see or hear our hero’s thoughts on the train. Move, move, MOVE.
I humbly suggest we should strike
a middle ground here. Resting places in novels are precious spaces, and I
intend to keep them, because as a reader I need them just as much as the
fictional characters do.
