NUB

Because I’ve been so remiss of late in giving regular Tips, this week I’ve decided to grab a brief hiatus in the reading on my desk and post a few in quick succession. A little more bite-size, reflecting some of the work that we’ve been doing in my Writers Groups since we began again in September. 

This first one concerns the centre of any scene, its nub, the reason for its existence. What is the moment, the action, that feels most crucial? What is the shift in the scene, which clicks the story forward? This is not something you want to completely commit to before you’ve begun to write, for fear in grasping too tightly to that intention you will suppress your active imagination, which usually has much better ideas. (But it’s almost impossible to have no intention, even in a first draft.) When it comes to editing a scene that already exists, though, this identifying of the nub, the central pivot, the crucial moment or action in what you’ve created, can be instrumental. What I find when working with writers on their scenes is sometimes the edit isn’t as much about cutting material, but rearranging it. So that the golden moment of the scene happens in the right place, not too early or too late. This re-ordering of material makes sure the nub is seeded properly, whereas in a first draft because you were making it up for the first time, some of that ‘seeding’ of the moment might have happened after the fact - in other words you imagined it out of the order. Simply rearranging the order of information in scenes can have a magical effect, like snapping in the right jigsaw piece in the right place.

I can feel myself writing too long a post, so I’m going to skip on to two prompts which I gave writers in my groups recently. I hope they will be of help to you in identifying the nub of your scenes. 

What is the nub of this scene? What is the point of it, what is its central action or shift? (This is a very good way to think about editing a complete short story as well.) One way to think about this is in terms of the way a painter directs our eye using light in a composition. To where in this scene do you most want to direct the reader’s eye? It doesn’t mean other rich details shouldn’t be included but when a reader finishes a scene, they should have an idea of where they were supposed to have looked, what they were suppose to have noticed. When you’re editing, try reading the scene as ‘innocently’ as you can, responding like a fresh reader, and highlighting the line(s) or paragraph(s) which feel important. (It’s completely normal to not know this as you write your first draft.) But once you do have an idea of what you feel is the centre of the scene, next think about how the other material you have created is best arranged around that golden section. What might go better before, directing the attention of the reader to that moment? What might go better afterward? It’s a general rule – although all rules are there to be broken once you understand them – that this crucial nub/shift/point should come in the last third of a scene (or story), with a little reaction time afterward, maybe, in which to start the consequential thread of the next scene…

What title could I give this scene? This is another powerful tool to use as you edit a story, but it can also be used as a kind of focus when you face the blank page of a first attempt. The title should reflect a promise you are making - this is what will happen in this scene. Keep that promise on a loose rein if you’re creating a first draft, and don’t worry if something different and better starts to emerge. If you’re using titling to help you edit a scene, ask yourself: am I being true to that title in the actions I’ve made happen, in the exchanges between characters, in the character’s inner life? And are these things that happen in some way in conversation with the larger promise, the title (in progress) of the complete story?

Susannah WatersComment