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Can the fundamental principles of non-fiction writer used for fiction?

I have never written fiction and never intended. My 40-year career has been in journalism and marketing communications. But a few months ago a person who had read my book on interpretive (non-fiction) writing and speaking contacted me to ask whether I could help her with some fiction projects. I was tempted to say "no" because I do not really see what my kind of writing had to do with her. By a coincidence, I have a few weeks earlier had came across a collection of comments written noted novelists and was struck by the similarity of what they had to say and what I had said. So I decided to give it a chance.

The lady asked me to look at a novel she had written a few years earlier. We will first analyze prologue of the novel according to some key principles and practices of interpretive writing, look at how it was revised.

But first, what are these core principles? There are really only three of them. But if they are properly understood and applied, covers most writing situations, both creative and interpretive.

A. Clarity Principle

Being ready is not a matter of personal appreciation. According to the clarity of law must be clear, you must do three things:
1st Emphasize what is of paramount importance.
2nd They emphasize what is of secondary importance.
3rd Eliminate it is irrelevant.

If you follow the formula, before you start writing you must first determine what is essential, ie what are the main ideas you want your readers to take away from your text?

It is not always easy. It is much simpler to say that everything is central, so you put in everything you have. But unless you do the work to define what you really want your readers to know they will not do it for you. They will simply get lost in your text and either give up or come out the other end not knowing what they have read.

Next you'll be sure to de-emphasize what is of secondary importance. Why? Because if you want your readers to recognize and preserve the core ideas, you do not want them to get lost in the details. Details (information of secondary importance) explain and support the main ideas. They should never overwhelm them.

Finally, remove what is irrelevant. Why? Because all data which adds nothing to explain and support the central ideas will tend to hide them. This is exactly the opposite of what you want.

B. Conciseness Principle

According to the conciseness principle, your text:

1st Long as necessary

2nd Short as possible

"So long as necessary" means covering all the key ideas you identified under "clarity", and all information of secondary important to explain and support them. Note that nothing is said about the number of words, because it is irrelevant. If it takes 500 words to be "as long as necessary" as 500 words should be used. If it takes 1500 words, then it's okay, too.

"As short as possible" means staying as close to the minimum as you can, because all words beyond the minimum requirements that tend to damage clarity. Instinct readers will constantly try to understand why these words are there, and will continuously be a shortage because they serve no purpose.

Anything that does not add to the text, subtracts from it.

C. Density Principle

According density principle, you text should contain:

1st Precise information

2nd Logical connection

Using precise information aids clarity. For example, if you say it is a "hot" days, what do you think? A reader might interpret hot as 24 ° C, while another might interpret is as 36 ° C. But if you say the temperature is 28 ° C, there is no room for interpretation – or misinterpretation.

Using precise information also generates confidence because it ensures your readers that you really know what you're talking about. This helps to keep their attention, making it easier to get your points across.

To these three fundamental principles of interpretive writing, I would like to add a specific technique. Analyze each sentence or passage you are writing to see what the issue it can raise in the reader's mind. Then answer it!

Normally, these issues will be subconscious; reader will not even be aware with them. But an extension list of "what is it?" and "why is that?" will inevitably cause the reader's mind to wander away from what you are trying to say. When wandered far enough, it is unlikely to return.

The reader will complain that the text is shallow, boring, flat or confusing. And he will be right.

Analysis

Below you will find the "analysis" of the prologue of the novel. For best performance, should you probably read the text straight through. Ignore comments in brackets, then re-read the comments. Finally, compare this original with "Review", produced by applying the above principles.

The purpose of the prologue is to:
A) introducing main characters
2) Outline the plot
3) Generate a sense of mystery and expectation
These are the key ideas, and everything in the text should bow to them

———————————–

Aurora was looking for his signal 737 taxied past her. (Where is she? Could she possibly on the tarmac?). She saw nothing but her faith did not waver. (Is she expected some kind of major event?)

When the plane rolled almost out of sight, she noticed two different flashes. It was Mitch. As always, he would be remembered. Almost A year ago, they had developed a system code to communicate from the terminal to the aircraft when she had complained that she could not see the small jet's windows – a flash of his silver business card case meant that he loved her and he would be back soon. (Hardly the big event suggested earlier.)

And she knew he would, considering the long-awaited engagement ring he had given her before he boarded – a lonely white diamond with heart-shaped clusters on both sides and small diamonds embedded on the tape. (Would a man really give a woman an engagement ring in an airport just before flying off to leave her for a week?)

More than fifteen minutes passed and finally the aircraft's engines whistled in action. Caste lines very, Rolls Royce engines overcame aircraft stagnant weight and huge mass fast down the long ramp strip. Once acquired speed, it took only a small flick of the wing flaps and steel structure effortlessly ascended into the air and was magical in flight. (This seems to be a pretty dramatic description of a plane off, especially for people like Aurora and Mitch, who is accustomed to flying. What is the purpose of this description?)

Aurora breathed a sigh of relief that was echoed by the few relatives who had been on both sides of her – a petite woman, a young girl, a man.
The plane was away safely. (More drama on the airplane taking off. Is this paragraph really necessary?)

She dabbed her forehead with a handkerchief Mitch had given her. GMA was initialized – Greg Mitchell Adderby – silver hair, he was her boss, her mentor, her first real love (how old is she?). She breathed in Antheus scent still clung to it – his scent. She rubbed the sweat of her palm (still worried about the start?) Against the jeans he had bought for her at Harrods in London on their first outing together, her first trip out of America. Ruby red denim. They were his favorite color, like the band he always wore. It was only a year ago.

She had become so much a part of Mitch's life since then, his wisdom and maturity of a guide to her (how old is Mitch?). He had promised to protect her (Against what?). And she marveled at the company he co-founded (with whom?), Rad Foods International, a distribution company for fresh and irradiated fruits and vegetables a place where she could work happily, sometimes even excel.

But now he was gone. What would she do for a week? (Does not she work in the company?) so fervently wished she had not had to stay behind for the award dinner, Young Business Designer of the Year. But she was proud of achievements and recognition. In his absence had Mitch arranged for Gerard Marques, their driver vendor to accompany her. "There is nobody else I'd rather rely on," he had told her. (Aurora seem to have won the prize. For what? What kind of work does she?)

At that level, Mitch fumbled nervously with his briefcase (why "nervous"?). Then he stared out the window and caught a glimpse of the aurora in oversized terminal window. Long, flowing, dark brown hair. Long waist, long slender legs. Even from a distance strongly colored jeans and fire-engine angora sweater that clung to her svelte frame was a beacon for him. "My ray of sunshine," he whispered and breathed deeply, thoughtfully. (Where is Mitch going? Where is he leaving from?)

As her tall figure shrunk to a mere dot, he took off his belt and turned his neck almost backwards, straining to see her for a few seconds.

Suddenly, the plane moved. He lurched suddenly, and a sharp pain bolted from the head down his back. He stands up again and rubbed his sore neck. "Oh," cried he, as the plane pulled him another excruciating time at this event, with even greater force.

"For God's sake man, get your head down," a bearded man next to him cried.
(Why bearded? This seems to be a free feature, move reader's attention away from Mitch.)

"What?"

"Get your head down."

Confused, Mitch obeyed the strict command and thrown his chest to his knees, gripping onto silver card case through the breast pocket of his black Armani suit (is this dramatic moment an appropriate time to describe what Mitch is wearing?).

"Four," someone yelled from the economy section. "It is the engine." (Why economy section? Are we to believe that Mitch is in business or first class? With the aircraft in emergency, it means so much?)

"Place your head between knees and be calm, "a shrill female voice cried over the loudspeaker. (Would a trained flight attendant" whine "in a" shrill voice "?) Her words were barely heard above the chaos.

When the plane lurched again, a luggage rack jarred opened upon them, and a vibrant fuchsia bag smashed into aisle, its zipper rupture – bras, socks and underwear spilling out. So steep was the jet angle now that the clothes tumbled down the length of the aisle with the ease of bullets. (Counts contents of the packet switching reader's attention away from Mitch. Is it relevant?).

Besides Mitch were two women sobbing hysterically. "This can not happen," one screamed. (Again, the reader attention shifted away from Mitch. Why?)

Unexpectedly, the doors to a second overhead compartment swung open, this time throwing yellow cones on the already frightened passengers (Is this sentence necessary?).

"Take your seat belts … "the bearded man shouted to Mitch from him since. His hands fumbled to obey.

On the ground, swore Aurora, the plane lurched uneven. It was not up anymore. Suddenly it made a second wrenching motion and then settled down.

"My God," she said, looking timidly the dangerous angle. All around her at the Niagara Falls terminal gaped at the scene. (Why this shift of attention away from Aurora just after it is restored?) The plane was only a few hundred meters away from the ground, without hope for enough space to compensate for a soft landing.

Suddenly, the plane tilted sideways, and returned against the building. A huge burst of fire came from the engine.

"They're gonna die!" Someone screamed.

"No!" Aurora, who cited as the metallic mass fallen to the pavement with a force that the earth quaked violently as if a Goliath was tumbling to the ground. (This seems to be a free, distracting metaphor. Is it necessary?) Plane wing scraped along the runway with a deafening noise and thick suffocating breath spilled out of the hull.

An explosion blew out the left jet and fire was raging.

Aurora was confident that Mitch was one of the windows. She was with him – she planned the last time they had eating a romantic dinner together last time he had sneaked a kiss at work last time they had made love-He was about to reach her. (This seems to be a distraction interlude during a crisis. Is it necessary?)

Finally lamed giant slide to a halt on the tarmac just in front of the window where she stood.

———————————

The scene continues in much the same way, ie raising questions not being answered, unnecessary switching of attention, distracting details, etc.

Revision of the Prologue

Here's the review. See how the use of three interpretive writing principles (clarity, conciseness, density) and Question & Answer technique has changed.

——————————-

Aurora looked through a terminal window, searching for his signal 737 taxied past her. She had not yet seen it, but she knew she would. When the plane rolled almost out of sight, she caught sight of what she had expected, two different flashes. It was Mitch.

Almost a year earlier, she had complained that she could not see him through the small jet's windows so they had devised their private signal system. A flash of his silver business card case meant that he loved her and would soon return.

And it was there. They had used the system many times over the past year, but this time was special. Just before boarding, he had given her what she had been asking for an engagement ring. It was kind of lonely white diamond with heart-shaped clusters on both sides and small diamonds embedded on the tape.

Mitch had planned to give it to her after his return, but he said: "I just could not wait.
"It was like Mitch," Aurora thought. Generally cool, calm and methodical, but can occasionally glimpse of appropriate spontaneity.

The moment he put it on her finger, as all Aurora's girlish dreams of an elegant dinner for two, a romantic moonlight stroll along the river, and perhaps even her lover down on his knees, immediately disappeared. Mitch was just as eager as she. That was all that mattered.

At the age of 26, she had obviously been in love before. But never like this. It could not have been such.

The plane rested on the tarmac a good 15 minutes. Finally, its powerful Rolls Royce engines roared into action. It began taxiing down the runway together the speed needed to lift its heavy mass into the sky.

Aurora withdrew the handkerchief Mitch had given her from her purse. It bore the initials GMA – Gregory Mitchell Adderby. She briefly pressed it to his nose and breathed in Antheus scent still clung to it – his scent. Oh yes, she had been in love before but never like this.

Just over a year ago, Mitch had been only her boss, but so was her mentor, her lover. And now her soon-to-be husband.

She touched the engagement ring he had placed on her slender finger less than 30 minutes ago. Each time Mitch had passed away before, had days preferred. But how was she would get through the next few weeks now.

Mitch was on its way to Young Business Designer of the Year dinner prices in Chicago, where he should be honored. At 31, Mitch was still a boyish appearance, whose silver-haired entrepreneur. Six years ago, he and a university Comrade founded Rad Foods International, a rapidly growing distribution company for fresh and irradiated fruits and vegetables. Still small compared to its competitors, company was generally recognized a real come and would soon take its place among the big boys.

On the plane was Mitch in a window seat, head turned back tried to catch a last glimpse of Aurora through the oversized windows in Niagara Falls air terminal. Auburn flowing hair, long waist, slim legs. Even at this distance he could discern ruby jeans and fire-engine red angora sweater he had bought her a few weeks ago when they were in London. "My beacon, my ray of sun," whispered he said.

As Aurora's svelte figure shrunk to a dot, Mitch took his belt and began to open its folder. Suddenly the plane lurched, and he was thrown forward and hit his head against the seat in front of him. He straightened up, rubbed his sore neck and just start to feel pain radiating down his body. The plane lurched again.

"For God's sake man, get your head down!" Screamed the man across time.

"What?"

"Get your head down, you idiot! The plane will crash! "

There was no doubt about authority in his voice, so Mitch obeyed. He put his chest to his knees, to take grab silver card case through the breast pocket of his jacket.

"Fire! It's the engine!" Someone screamed.

So a robust dispassionate but slightly wobbly female voice came over the loudspeaker: "Ladies and gentlemen, place your head between your knees and remain calm."

Since plane lurched again, an overhead luggage racks jarred open. A fuchsia lady's traveling case crashed to the floor, spilling out a rainstorm by the colorful, intimate apparel – Bras, panties, stockings, nighties.

"Quite a show," Mitch said, trying to reassure rapidly fraying nerves. But the respite lasted only a moment.

"Put your damn seatbelt on!" Thundered the man on the gangway. Mitch fumbled to comply, but never completely done it.

On the ground was Aurora watch the scene in horror. The plane was no longer rising. Instead, it was wobbling from side to side as if trying to give its opinion, which way to go. Board, it put down.

"Oh my God," Aurora cried her heart pounding and drops of sweat pearling on her forehead.

Suddenly there was a bright flash and a torrent of fire and smoke poured from the airframe.

"It's going to go down! They all die! "Someone shouted.

"No!" Aurora reported as the stricken aircraft abruptly out of the sky. Just before hitting the ground, the pilot regained some form of control. He sent it along the track. It screamed and screamed, then paralyzed undercarriage stuck large trenches in the pavement along the path.

Another explosion, more fire and smoke. Finally, the plane proceeded to a stop just in front window where Aurora stood.

————————————–

To answer the question at the beginning: Can the principles of non-fiction (clarity, conciseness, density) used for fiction? Actually they can. And with great power. So if you've always wanted to write fiction, but felt it was beyond you, then why not give it a try? You may be better than you think.

Philip Yaffe is a former reporter / feature writer with The Wall Street Journal and a marketing consultant. He currently teaches a course in good writing and good speaking in Brussels, Belgium. His recently published book In the "I" by Storm: Simple Secrets of Writing & Speaking (Almost) like a Professional is available from Story Publishers in Ghent, Belgium (storypublishers.be) and Amazon (amazon.com).

For further information, contact:

Philip Yaffe
Brussels, Belgium
Tel: +32 (0) 2660 0405
Email: phil.yaffe @ yahoo.com, phil.yaffe @ gmail.com

About the Author

Philip Yaffe is a former writer with The Wall Street Journal and international marketing communication consultant. Now semi-retired, he teaches courses in persuasive communication in Brussels, Belgium. Because his clients use English as a second or third language, his approach to writing and public speaking is somewhat different from other communication coaches. He is the author of In the “I” of the Storm: the Simple Secrets of Writing & Speaking (Almost) like a Professional. Contact: phil.yaffe@yahoo.com.

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