When I was young – a long time ago now – my father took me to see a movie. I can’t remember the name, but I have never forgotten the image of a wide band of soldier ants moving across Africa eating everything in sight, including people. Not a particularly pleasant way to end one’s sojourn on this planet, but a riveting story nevertheless. I especially recall the army of these small creatures cutting leaves from trees and sailing across rivers on them….masses and masses of tiny boats carrying the ants across to the other side. They landed and clambered on.
I’ve never forgotten that story. It all came back to me with a spine-chilling clarity when I read a chapter of a novel a writer sent me.
The chapter starts with an interesting bit of information. It catches the attention of the reader. Here it is: ‘It is said that the strength of the jaws of the Driver Ants of Central and Eastern Africa are so powerful that the local tribes use them to suture their gashes.’
With that opening sentence, she has my attention. I am asking, ‘what is this about?’ I want to read on.
After giving some more detail, the writer places the character on the scene and he is looking at an Ant Farm. She has him estimate its size and decide it is perfect. The reader is now wondering . . . perfect for what? We discover that the ants’ owner has starved them for five days. When Saul presses his face up against the glass case the ants go mad in an effort to get to him.
Are you starting to shiver as you imagine the scene? I was.
We also get an image of the man who, as he straightens up, ‘drags his baseball cap further down over his forehead,’ and pushes his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose . . . .
Can you see that? I could.
He is joined by another man and we get a similar description. This man is called Ant Man.
Ant Man throws an antelope carcass to the ants. The ants, starved for five days, swarm over the carcass and devour it.
The visitor describes what happens with a live creature and Ant Man begins to feel uneasy. Why is this man here? We feel his uneasiness and wonder with him . . . .
This is all excellent tension-building narrative.
The tension releases when the visitor goes into detail. I would advise the writer to edit this bit out. Why? Because it feels like the writer is trying to draw the reader’s attention to how much research she has done. No question that the more research a writer does the better. However, it is better that a reader senses more lies behind what is on the page. Fiction is not trying to replicate the work of an encyclopaedia. We are taking facts and weaving them into a story. Often no more than a third of the research we do for a story finds its way onto the page. The extra information filters through in the layers and subplot. This gives the writing substance.
Why would I suggest that the author not include what is a potentially ‘interesting’ piece of information? The answer lies in the question. Although information is interesting, it may not add to the story. In this case we are told that the ants release formic acid to let other ants know they have ‘struck gold.’
In fact, the interesting part of this paragraph lies in the writer’s use of the word ‘predatory.’ We are told the character and the ants share this characteristic. That is the interesting bit of this story. How are they both predatory and why?
The same thing happens later in the chapter when the writer gives the reader details of an injection the visitor has just administered to Ant Man.
Again the pace drops off.
Whenever a writer is captured by the information their research has thrown up it is a good idea for him or her to revisit the narrative and ask, ‘is this information a distraction?’ Does it interrupt the flow? Be very ruthless about answering this question. The general rule of thumb is if it is something a reader can find out on Google, or somewhere else, let them do that unless the information relates directly to the story.
Back to the chapter.
Unsettled by the visitor, the Ant Man runs inside. Short sharp sentences echo the Ant Man’s agitation. We can almost hear his breathing in each clipped phrase. We become tense for him, even though we suspect he has his own dark side.
The visitor tells the Ant Man how he knows him. For a brief moment, telling takes over. But before we have time to start urging the writer to get back to the story, we are there.
We see the visitor overpower the Ant Man and we know with gut wrenching tightness what fate awaits him.
It is gripping and holds the reader’s attention from beginning to end.
The reason it holds us within its grip is the amount of showing and the minimal amount of telling. It is vivd storytelling.Marvellous!
Suraya Dewing
thestorymint 