Marsha Canham on writing what needed to be written
I have written three trilogies, and each time I wrote the third book in the set, I thought: okay, tie up all the loose ends, make sure everything you need or want to say about the ‘bigger picture’ has come to a satisfactory end, the main characters are happy and the secondary characters have all served their purpose, some with their own happy endings, some whose endings have prompted laughter, or in some instances, tears. Worthy tears, serve a purpose. In stories about war and battles, a heroic death on the field, as in The Blood of Roses where the reader had to feel the tragedy of what was lost on the field at Culloden, involves all of the emotions. Or in The Last Arrow, where one of my absolute favorite characters came to an end that undoubtedly shocked the readers as much as it shocked me when I decided to write it. Once before, in an earlier book, Bound by the Heart, I wrote a magnificent death scene for one of the main secondary characters, but in the final version, I just couldn’t do it. It was only my second published book and I didn’t want to upset any apple carts. Several years later, when writing the Scotland trilogy, I realized some deaths were important to the story, important to engage the readers’ emotions, important to being true to the voice inside my head that said: this is the way it would have happened.
In the past, some editors have criticized me for my graphic battle scenes and suggested I ‘soften’ them or remove them altogether. But honestly, I’ve yet to read a battle that was pretty or soft or where everyone survived to fight again.
Those who know me know my love for knights and castles and forest outlaws. I had a wonderful time creating my version of the Robin Hood legend, drawing on facts as well as fiction on which to base my story. The Last Arrow brought together all the hints and whispers set down in the first two books and, because of the deliberate thought that went into the title, I knew it would be the book where everything came to a dazzling end.
Or did it?
Flash forward twenty years. For most of those two decades, a story had been nagging at the back of my mind, a story involving a castle inhabited by the ghost of a character I had reluctantly killed off in The Last Arrow. I used to dream about scenarios where an inquisitive heroine was exploring castle ruins, finding a hidden door, going inside by herself as all irrational, good spooky tropes demand, and finding the little ghostly sprite sitting in the cobwebs. His task, after being locked away for seven hundred years, was to reveal a secret he must tell someone before he can carry on to the netherworld. I had variations of that dream many, many times over the twenty years and each time the nagging grew louder, to the point where I started jotting down scenes, thinking of plotlines, wondering… should I? Could I? The latter doubts came from the fact I have only ever written historical novels… with one ill-fated contemporary that permanently scarred my ego. Knights, pirates, Highlanders, highwaymen, outlaws let my imagination run amok and I feel most comfortable writing about them. I much prefer immersing myself in researching how to fire a crossbow than I do looking up the calibre of bullet for a Glock 17.
I suppose it is only fitting that a nagging dream should prompt me to write The Mark of the Rose because it was a recurring dream that I’d had since my teenage years that inspired Through A Dark Mist. The opening prologue of that book was, in every detail, the dream I’d had dozens of times. I only stopped having it after I wrote it down. With that thought prodding me on, it was only a matter of time before I gave in to the urge to write a fourth book in the Medieval trilogy, a book which does not bring my Sparrow back to ghostly life—although he is in there in a way that I hope makes readers smile—but which does involve two young women born seven centuries apart, one of whom has a story to tell of a lost princess and a royal bloodline that could have changed the course of history.
It was written as a stand-alone book and it is not necessary to read the first three. But as my editor said, when she was reading it over, she had a few tingles down her spine as she reacted to the revelations that the characters discovered on their parallel journeys to the truth.
Sparrow, I think, would be happy.
Thank you for the post! I’ve been reading and collecting Marsha Canham books for years. Have purchased the new one and can’t wait to sink into it!
Writers definitely need to listen to their muse, and while editors are important they are not writers. At least not of that particular book.
But there are cases (I’m looking at you, Diana Gabaldon) where some tough editorial love would have been welcome. Books 4-7 of her Outlander saga have been way too long, with tons of material that didn’t progress the characters or the plot much at all. It took me days to read through the opening day (one day!!) of The Fiery Cross because it went on forever.
A lot of the plot threads in these books could have been excised altogether or published separately as related stories, much like her Lord John series. Book 8 was better, but I’m almost dreading book 9 because it’s taken longer than any of them to write. And she’s already saying book 10 will be one of the Big Books, it will also take years to write, and since it’s the final book in the series there will be lots of loose ends to the up. Oy.
“…while editors are important, they are not writers. At least not of that particular book.” So true. The economist Dr. Thomas Sowell once wrote an article about his annoyances with editors, and that was his big pet peeve. He appreciated when editors made his work more readable, had him clarify certain points, etc. But he definitely did not appreciate editors who acted like co-writers.
“But there are cases… where some tough editorial love would have been welcome.” Also very true. When I got my first speculative fiction short story accepted under a different name, I was quite deflated when I saw the editorial markup. But I stomped around a bit, took a deep breath, and read the suggestions carefully. After which I thought, “Why did they accept this obvious dumpster fire of a story that is riddled with a major plot hole and shaky characterization?” But I’m so glad they took a chance on me, and that I followed their advice. The story became much stronger because of their insights. To leave it the way it was would have been an embarrassment.
“I’m looking at you, Diana Gabaldon…” I haven’t read any Outlander books, but it sounds like there’s a point where authors become so popular, editing falls by the wayside. Stephen King, for example, could probably sell his grocery lists on eBay.
I think Gabaldon is very gifted, she’s turned romantic fiction on its head all by herself. But yeah. She needs a reality check. In one book there is this entire subplot about a girl Claire mentors so the young woman can become the next healer in the community. Her story, which is essentially a mystery, goes on for hundreds of pages. While it’s interesting, it adds nothing to the overall story (imo) and could easily have been left out entirely. I’m sure there are readers who disagree, but I just found that whole episode pretty much a rabbit hole.
Her first 3 books are amazing though, and I highly recommend them.
Thanks for the rec- and the warning about later installments.
As for subplots lasting an inordinate number of pages, one of the most famous examples is the novel “The Godfather.” A lot of people agree that the movie is better than the book because they trimmed away all the excessive and irrelevant story points- most notably everything involving Johnny Fontaine and Lucy Mancini. Personally, I thought Mario Puzo went a little overboard in certain areas, but I didn’t hate it as much as some other readers did. Incidentally, Mr. Puzo never wanted to write the book. He just needed to produce a violent, sexy potboiler in order to support his family and pay off gambling debts. At times, it definitely shows.
Another problem with writers is our tendency to fall madly in love with our own work. If you’ll excuse my language, a lot of writing tends to be masturbatory in nature. When long winded fantasies play out on the page, it’s hard at the moment to imagine *anybody* not adoring them as much as we do. Reining us in is definitely within the job of a good editor! Of course, we writers need to exercise some self-control as well.
@KesterGayle – I know a lot of readers felt the same as you about the Outlander books although personally I did like the overload of information and spent hours reading up on my tablet on various things she brought into the stories that caught my interest. For example, I had never heard of the Regulators (despite an MA in history!) and I spent some time looking into the flora and fauna she describes as well as the various medical procedures. I even gave some thought to the origins of the KKK when I read The Fiery Cross and did a bit of research. On the other hand, I am hoping that Volume 10 comes out before I leave this mortal coil as I am gagging to know how she will end the saga. Yours truly, Devoted Outlander Fan. (!!!)
Elaine, I’m a devoted Outlander fan too, and will read every word of the next two books provided I am still alive at the time! Hopefully, book 9 will be out this year sometime.
I’d never heard of the Regulators either, and my husband who is rabid about American history and also has an MA in the field had not heard of it either. So that part was interesting for both of us. And a lot of the detail is fascinating, I agree. It’s just that she has long passages that add little to the overall story, like the whole Fannie Beardslee extravaganza….interesting, but pointless. The Malva Christie thing was also one big dead end imo. Both stories could have been eliminated and different motivations found for the follow-up events.
So yes, I always read the entire book the first time through. After that, I skip. A lot. I am always left wanting much more about Lord John and Young Ian, although book 8 was far better about that than previous books. And I always want much less of Roger and Bree who I find uninteresting.
Do you watch the show? It does a good job of paring down the plot to the main ideas, while sticking pretty faithfully to the overall story. It has changed a few things, but it doesn’t shy away from the brutal scenes or the sex scenes. And Tobias Menzies is brilliant as Frank/Black Jack.
“In the past, some editors have criticized me for my graphic battle scenes and suggested I ‘soften’ them or remove them altogether. But honestly, I’ve yet to read a battle that was pretty or soft or where everyone survived to fight again.”
Thanks for addressing this issue, Ms. Canham. A lot of people don’t believe me when I talk about how stories can be potentially- or actually- ruined by editors’ sensibilities. On the flip side, editors can be fantastic at catching embarrassing plot holes, continuity errors, characterization issues, and clunky sentence construction. But I see evidence the former whenever I’m getting sucked into a story and suddenly read an eye roll-inducing moralizing note that smacks of editorial interference rather than remaining true to the author’s original vision.
On that note, as writers we have to listen to our instincts and the characters we have created. Sometimes that means putting our protagonists and side characters in uncomfortable or lethal situations, letting them make poor decisions, or allowing them to express a controversial viewpoint that is true to the character rather than what reader/editor sensibilities dictate. I know I really struggled writing a scene once in which the protagonist gets into a fist fight. Culturally, letting the villain take the first swing is expected and borderline mandatory. While writing this particular scene, I really struggled to let the protagonist take the first punch- not because I was trying to be edgy, but because it was essential for the character in that moment. After reading through my story again, I realized giving the antagonist the first punch- or making the choreography vague- was untrue to the essence of the character as well as a lazy copout. I had to trust that my deeply flawed MC was still likeable because of the character arc that followed rather than falling into classic notions of fair play.
Sorry for the tangent. Thanks for sharing your story. I always love to hear fellow writers’ processes, inspirations, and insights.