Technique of Fiction Writing

Saunders Dowst Robert

Description

Whether you're a new writer struggling to find your way into the story you want to tell or an experienced scribe looking to shake things up with a few novel tips and techniques, Robert Saunders Dowst's The Technique of Fiction Writing can help. Packed with practical guidelines and instructions that are sure to break you out of your rut and breathe new life into your work, this classic guide is a must-read for aspiring novelists and short-story writers.

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 mai 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776533718
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE TECHNIQUE OF FICTION WRITING
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ROBERT SAUNDERS DOWST
 
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The Technique of Fiction Writing First published in 1918 Epub ISBN 978-1-77653-371-8 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77653-372-5 © 2014 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Preface Introduction Chapter I - The Writer Himself Chapter II - The Choice of Matter Chapter III - Conceptive Technique: Story Types Chapter IV - Conceptive Technique: Plot and Situation Chapter V - Constructive Technique of Narration Chapter VI - Executive Technique of Narration Chapter VII - Executive Technique of Narration Chapter VIII - Description Chapter IX - Speech Chapter X - Portrayal of Character Chapter XI - Atmosphere Chapter XII - The Short Story Chapter XIII - The Novel Chapter XIV - Conclusion Appendix A - Suggestions for the Student Appendix B - Suggestions for Teachers Appendix C - To Write a Story Endnotes
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"The one excuse and breath of art—charm."— Stevenson.
TO C. K. R. D.
Preface
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Many books have been written on fiction technique, and the chief excusefor the present addition to the number is the complexity of the subject.Its range is so wide, it calls for so many and so different capacitiesin one attempting to discuss it, that a new work has more than a chanceto meet at least two or three deficiencies in all other treatments.
I believe that the chief deficiency in most works on fiction techniqueis that the author unconsciously has slipped from the viewpoint of awriter of a story to that of a reader. Now a reader without intention totry his own hand at the game is not playing fair in studying technique,and a book on technique has no business to entertain him. Accordingly, Ihave striven to keep to the viewpoint of one who seeks to learn how towrite stories, and have made no attempt to analyze the work of mastersof fiction for the sake of the analysis alone. Such analysis isinteresting to make, and also interesting to read, but it is notdirectly profitable to the writer. It is indirectly profitable, ofcourse, but it will give very little direct aid to one who has adefinite story idea and wishes to be told the things he must consider indeveloping it and writing the story, or to one who wishes to be toldroughly how he should go about the business of finding real stories. Infact, I believe that discussion and analysis of perfect work has atendency to chill the enthusiasm of the beginning writer. What hechiefly needs is to be told the considerations he must hold in mind inconceiving, developing, and writing a story. The rest lies with his ownabilities and capacities to work intelligently and to take pains.
Therefore the first part of this book takes up the problems of techniquein the order in which they present themselves to the writer. Beginningwith matters of conception, the discussion passes to matters ofconstruction and development, and finally to matters of execution, orrather the writing of a story considered as a bare chain of events. Thenthe matters of description, dialogue, the portrayal of character, andthe precipitation of atmosphere are discussed, and lastly the shortstory and novel, as distinct forms, are taken up.
Usually the propositions necessary to be laid down require nodemonstration; they are self-evident. That is why a book on techniquefor the writer need not indulge in fine-spun analysis of perfect work.Where analysis will lend point to the abstract statement, I have madeit, but my constant aim has been not to depart from the viewpoint thatthe reader has in mind some idea of his own and wishes to be told how tohandle it. Unquestionably literary dissection is useful in that it givesthe beginning writer familiarity with the terminology and processes ofthe art, but the main object of a book on technique is to place theresults of analysis, directly stated, in logical sequence.
I will note one other matter. A great part of the technique of fictionwriting concerns matters of conception and development which arepreliminary to actual writing. In fact they are essentially andpeculiarly the technique of fiction. The story that is not a justlyordered whole, with each part in its due place and no part omitted,cannot have full effect, however great the strictly executive powers ofits writer. Verbally faultless telling will not save a story which isnot logically built up and developed, either before writing or in theprocess of writing. The art of telling a story is largely the art ofjustly manipulating its elements. The art of telling it with verbalperfection is not so much a part of the strict technique of fictionwriting as it is of the general technique of writing. Therefore I havemade little attempt to discuss the general art of using words. Forassistance in studying the art of expression the reader should turn to awork on rhetoric. The subject is too inclusive for adequate treatmenthere. Moreover, it is debatable whether the art of verbal expression canbe studied objectively with any great profit. But the art of putting astory together can be studied objectively with profit, and itsprinciples are subject to direct statement.
I desire to acknowledge my indebtedness to Mr. William R. Kane, of TheEditor Magazine, for much helpful criticism and many valuablesuggestions.
Introduction
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"A work of art is first cloudily conceived in the mind; during theperiod of gestation it stands more clearly forward from these swaddlingmists, puts on expressive lineaments, and becomes at length that mostfaultless, but also, alas! that incommunicable product of the humanmind, a perfected design. On the approach to execution all is changed.The artist must now step down, don his working clothes, and become theartisan. He now resolutely commits his airy conception, his delicateAriel, to the touch of matter; he must decide, almost in a breath, thescale, the style, the spirit, and the particularity of execution of hiswhole design."
Thus Stevenson, in "A Note on Realism," takes it for granted that theartist in pigments, stone, or words cannot reproduce until he first hasproduced, cannot show a perfect work unless he paints, builds, or writesalong the lines of a perfected design.
One cannot dabble long at architecture or the graphic arts withoutgaining keen realization of the fact that conception in its elaborativeaspects is as much a part and phase of technique as the executivehandling of materials. But the art of literature, and, more narrowly,the art of fiction, deal with materials other than those employed in theother arts; words, not colors or marble, nor yet sounds, are theresource of the story teller to precipitate his conception in enduringform; and words are at once frank and mysterious things. Their primaryoffice is to forward the common business of life; each has some meaningin itself, more or less definite. It results that the writer of a storywho sets out with only the merest glimmering of what he means to do inmind can produce a superficially plausible work, a work not tooobviously misshapen, a work that means something, at any rate, althoughhis failure to trace a design to guide his hand almost inevitably willprohibit his giving the basic conception most effective expression. And,since almost any sequence of words has some significance, it alsoresults that the writer of fiction who works at haphazard may fail todiscover that failure in his work as a whole is due to lack of planningrather than to defective execution. The mere grammatical coherence of afictionally slipshod piece of work is a shield between its writer'sinquiring eye and its essential defects.
The art of fiction is the art both of the tale and of the story,fictions that differ radically. Their most striking difference is statedin the following pages; here I can only remark broadly that the tale isepisodal, consisting of a fortuitous series of incidents withoutessential connection or relation except that they all happened to happento the characters, while the story is a whole in that each incidentfunctions in the development of a plot or dramatic problem. If previsionand full elaboration of his basic idea are essential to the writer of atale, they are doubly essential to the writer of a story, simply becausea story is a whole and the result of careful co-ordination of parts.Even if the writer of some particular story has not worked along thelines of a fully elaborated design, the story actually will manifestco-ordination of parts or else be worthless. A story is more than aseries of incidents; it is a series of incidents significant in relationto character. Its writer cannot set to work with an eye solely to thephysical spectacle and follow after with his pen; he must prepare hispeople as well as the events, a task of cunning calculation. He musthave an eye to many other matters, but this is not the place to statethem. The matter of character is the matter significant here, becausethe whole difference between tale and story is made by the presence orabsence of relation between events and personality. And it is certainthat the writer of a story cannot hope to do the best work if hepostpones until the moment of actual writing the task of moulding andelaborating his basic idea with a view to giving it maximum effect. Thetask to express perfectly, in a verbal sense, is difficult enough toclaim the undivided attention of the ablest artist, but undividedattention cannot be given the matter of verbal expression by a writerwho shape