No Free Rides

            In school we’re taught that the rules of writing are mostly grammatical.  And grammar is definitely indispensable.  But there are other rules that make it sing.  Just as a piano student can play mechanically, hitting the right notes and keeping the right tempo, it isn’t enough.  You have to know—and implement—the secret stuff they don’t teach in school.

            Today I’m sharing one of those bits of information and it’s this: No Free Rides.  Whether you’re writing a short story, a novel, a screenplay, or a play, you are taking on unspoken duties to your audience.  You cannot enlist their time and attention and  then sloppily let them down any more than someone can bang on a piano and call it a concert.

            You owe it to your readers to make every word, every scene, count.  Nothing should be included that doesn’t do one of two things:  Advance the Plot or Reveal Character.  Print out those six words and post them atop your monitor if you must.  Each day at the end of your writing, go back over it and see if you’ve included extraneous information or dialogue that doesn’t do one of those things.  If you have, those are Free Rides and must be eliminated.

            What happens if you don’t adhere to this rule?  You’ve seen it for yourself.  You’re reading a wonderful murder mystery and suddenly there’s a chapter describing the kitchen of a restaurant where the detective just ate.  On and on the author goes, describing food preparation techniques and even the cooks themselves—and then none of it ever plays into the story.  You have just wasted a whole chapter learning how to filet a fish and it never even mattered.  Who knows why it was included—probably the author is an avid cook, just took a cooking class, and wants to share his newfound knowledge—but it doesn’t belong in this story. 

            The detective never goes back to that restaurant, none of the cooks figure into the murder, and we don’t even learn why the detective eats there or what he ordered.  It could have—and should have—been edited out.  Not only would its elimination not have hurt; it would have helped by not stringing you along as you paid attention to what you thought were possible clues.

            You see it on television all the time, too.  An opening scene of a hilltop wedding will pull you in, you watch the bride and groom kiss, then the camera will pan to a nearby beach where the stars of this medical drama are reviving a person who nearly drowned.  Never does the storyline go back to the wedding, and you end up puzzled.  Was it the producer’s son’s wedding—an inside joke?  Was it just a pretty shot the director liked?  Huh?  The bride and groom didn’t cause the drowning?  Then why are they there? 

            Meandering, pointless dialogue is as guilty as the Free Ride scene— everything your people say should matter—and should reveal character or move the plot along.  This doesn’t mean your characters can’t mumble or tell ridiculous stories— sometimes that’s the point.  You may want to show how shallow or self-pitying or foolish they are.  But if they’re discussing the flight path of various airlines and nothing ever comes of it—that’s a free ride. 

            I know it’s tempting to include something you jotted down a few months ago that you really love—a great little snappy bit of dialogue, or a breathtaking description—but save it for another work if it doesn’t apply to the piece you’re crafting at the moment.  Move the story along or let us know more about your characters.  That’s how to make music people will pay to hear.