Vampy Black: Cutting Down Monsters

I am still editing Darthaniel's Vampy Black project novel, and I am hitting a huge 5,000 word monster chapter today. I am cutting this one up into at least two or three chapters, as I dislike long-long chapters as both a reader and an editor.

I will blame MTV and shortened attention spans for this one, but there are some good points to this practice.

In a literary book, I don't mind long chapters if they are gripping and immersive, I will gladly lose myself in something deep. In an action or thriller book, I mind long chapters because you want to keep things fresh and paced snappily. There feels like too much information here, and I will either start cutting or dividing, and in this case, both.

Chapters provide a rest, a natural break where you invite the reader to put the book down and pick back up later. I want chapters in books with a quick, snappy pace to be shorter, and feel like they get to the point and deliver the next slice of action in a timely and concise manner.

Now in a book like a Stephen King novel, I don't mind longer chapters because you are wading through a sea of greatness. There's a trust there with established writers that allows them to write chapters however long they want, because we know it's going to be good, and we trust them to deliver on the long hauls.

With newer writers, and especially e-reader books, I feel the need to keep things punchy and short. We don't want to overload readers unless what we are writing is truly and unquestionably great, but the burden of chapter length runs against us as new writers. One of the big faults of writers is we tend to think everything we say, no matter how trivial and informative, is worth our reader's time.

This is the curse of hubris.

Of course everything we write is special! We are letting them look into our magical world, and every fact, no matter how trivial, should be treated as a treat and an honor that we shared it with dear reader! Even if the fact has nothing to do with the current situation, they should feel entertained and privileged that we chose to share out wit and majesty as a writer with them!

In reality, this is like laying out a wonderful dinner on the dining room table, and then covering every square inch around the food with chocolates and candy in case someone wants to have a sweet after dinner. Or during it. Or before it. What was once a beautiful spread of food and delicious presentation becomes a travesty of culinary disasters, and the entire spread looks garish and the candy and treats take away from the food's presence. It's too much food, unfocused, and now none of it goes together.

Clear the table, put the candy away for Halloween, and just put dinner out. That's all your guests want. This is what they will remember the night by. Just the food, not the flourish, and certainly not all the extra treats you laid out for them because you fear you would be a lousy hostess if you hadn't.

It's fear again, isn't it? The fear our readers will not like us. It's the same fear that drives our addictions to adverbs and alcohol. We need to put treats and random factoids out because we fear readers 'won't get it' or feel what's there is sparse. Guess what, if it was sparse before, it will be sparse with any amount of empty calories added to it.

Also, we feel the need to load up the table with the great stuff. Why not have a roast, and a turkey? Let's put a ham on there as well! Longer chapters are better, right? Let's make every side dish we can imagine, and put one on every square inch of empty tablecloth.

Same problem. We fear our gusts won't enjoy what we serve, so we give up and serve everything. Everything we make is special and we expect everyone to enjoy everything we create, right?

Instead of a focused meal where everything goes together, we give up and take our guests to a buffet. There's a time and a place for that, but not when we are trying to deliver a dinner we want people to remember. So again, it's fear.

Our guests wanted turkey and stuffing, with yams and potatoes. They expect corn and cranberry sauce. The hamburgers sitting on the table are great, but they don't belong, and they distract from the meal. So take them away. Let's just deliver what the people came to see. There's plenty of room within what we are cooking up to deliver our signature style, presentation, and express ourselves within what we do.

Don't let that fear that people won't like you control your writing. You are a great writer, with plenty to say. People will like anything you make. But don't overload their plates. Promise to deliver what you are going to deliver, and serve them just that.

Save the other ideas for another meal, and another book.