Breaking the Rules: Using Present Tense in Fiction

In my copy of the 1922 edition of Emily Post’s Etiquette, she says “…a first rule for behavior in society is: ‘Try to do and say those things only which will be agreeable to others.'” So, I wonder if I’ll be ruffling any feathers when I publish this post on writing a novel in present tense?

I know. Throw “present tense” in the midst of a discussion on fiction and you beg for trouble, maybe even set the stage for a form rejection.

But hear me out.

My first writing teacher, Ariel Gore, reminded us one day that a good memoir reads like fiction and great fiction can read like a memoir. The art of the narrative is critical in both genres.

Writers of creative nonfiction often use fiction techniques. And, once in a while, a technique for writing memoir crosses over into fiction. I first considered how the practice of writing memoir can influence a work of fiction in a post I wrote on Stanley Kunitz, Memoir and Fiction. When I flipped open my June issue of The Writer and read an article by Mimi Schwartz on using present tense in memoir, I wondered again about transferable techniques.

I punched out the first draft of my current novel-in-progress during NaNoWriMo two years ago.  In thirty days, I wrote a little over 50,000 words of a story that unfolded in present tense. At the time, I was very much a novice writer and didn’t consider the rule that fiction is usually written in past tense. I didn’t consider anything. I was hunched over a keyboard chasing down a character and her tale before she got away. In the end, I was thrilled at having written a full story, even in its most raw stage.

In between the first draft and a serious rewrite, I read a novel that is written in present tense. I barely made it through the novel; each chapter sounded like a running commentary. So, when I sat down to study and rework chapter one of my WIP, I weighed my options: keep the story as is – in present tense – and risk losing the reader after the first few pages, or rework the story into past tense.

As an emerging writer, I wanted to learn my craft (and earn my way) by following the rules first; I could break them later. So, I changed the tense of the story. Each time I re-read my new version of chapter one, though, something pulled at the back of my throat. My gut twisted. My head was telling me to go one way, but the story insisted I go another.

Isn’t that just how it works sometimes? The story has a mind of it’s own, and I am simply a conductor. I couldn’t ignore the pull to return to present tense.

Here’s where Mimi Schwartz’s article (“The special power of present tense”) comes in. Schwartz mentions a few specific ways that present tense can strengthen memoir.

“For creative nonfiction writers, the act of discovery is what makes the genre so appealing.”

When reading a story written in present tense, the audience experiences the immediacy of the character’s own discoveries, adding to the suspense of the story.

Schwartz also says that using present tense can highlight the main character’s “[changes] over time.” Sure, you can do this with past tense as well, but Schwartz emphasizes her point by sharing her own experience when she used it her memoir Good Neighbors, Bad Times: Echoes of My Father’s German Village:

“…[T]he village and the villagers kept drawing me back, literally and figuratively, into their living rooms and kitchens, as I tried to uncover why these people mattered to me in New Jersey, 70 years later. And the present tense let the reader come along; we walk together in my father’s old world, trying to figure it out.”

Writing fiction in present tense can be a stylistic choice that taps into the readers senses and emotion on a deeper level.

There’s still a part of me that worries I’m biting off more than can chew, being so green and all, but I like a challenge. And I also like to listen to the way the story wants to be told. That means, my choice to stick with present tense must be a stylistic move and not a way of avoiding a major restructuring of a draft. Throughout the whole rewriting process, I must make each word, phrase, and passage count.

What are your experiences with present tense? Have you written a short story or a novel that cried out for it? Or, have you read a novel that used it successfully?

*****

Schwartz, Mimi. “The special power of present tense.” The Writer. June 2010: 26-27. Print.

Post, Emily. Etiquette. United States of America: Funk & Wagnalls Company, 1922. p.  Print.

[tweetmeme]

Wed’s Word Flash Fiction: On the Edge

Every Wednesday, on Writing Under Pressure, you’ll find a post based on Today’s Word (from Wordsmith.org). Past essays, poems, or flash fiction pieces can be found under Wednesday’s Word on the sidebar to the right.

Today’s word:

equipoise. noun. 1. A state of balance. 2. Something that serves as counterbalance.

Tonight, I read to my daughter from The Wind in the Willows. The first bit of chapter nine describes my mood for the day:

The Water Rat was restless, and he did not exactly know why. To all appearances the summer’s pomp was still at fullest height….”

Sometimes there’s no rhyme or reason for restlessness. All I know is that it was a good thing it’s Wednesday, or I would have avoided writing all together. Now, to a little flash….

*****

On the Edge

Libby took off her shoe and stretched her right leg out behind her. She hooked the top of her foot around a skinny birch tree then bent down and placed her left hand on a rock in front of her. Leading with her right arm, she lowered herself, slowly, towards the ring that teetered on the edge of a patch of moss. Libby had to hook the ring on the first attempt, or she’d lose it over the cliff.

It isn’t even my ring, she thought. Though, it could’ve been. It belonged to her roommate, Emily.

Libby’s left thigh bore most of her weight and began to burn. The toes on her right foot curled tighter. Yoga had gotten her into this mess, and now Yoga would hopefully get her out of it.

Continue reading “Wed’s Word Flash Fiction: On the Edge”

A Writer on Vacation

Part One: Not Writing

The weight
Of a thick, gray cloud
Pressed down
And choked out signs
Of the sun.

Everything was muted.
“And damp,” I thought.
Like my mood.

When the rain fell,
For the fourth time that day,
It hissed.
It struck the surface
Of the lake
And hissed.

Like I did,
At my husband.
Spewing venomous complaints.

I slammed
Cabinet doors
For effect.
And growled,
“I need space.”

Or, maybe
It was time
With a pen
And paper
That I needed.

So, I turned
to my notebook
And finally,
I wrote.
And, it was then
That the clouds
And the weight
Lifted.

~

Part Two: Discoveries

A day in town meant laundry and groceries and a stop at my favorite used book store. Among the stacks, I was drawn to the old books, the ones with yellowing pages and fragile bindings. I pulled one from the shelf because of the title, another because of the cover, and a third because of the author.

1. Out of the Mist, by Florence Riddell; 2. He Fell in Love with His Wife, by Edward P. Roe; 3. Here Lies the Collected Stories of Dorothy Parker

Each old book holds several stories: the ones written within the pages and the stories of its own history. When I held them, I wondered who bought the book new and who read it first; who passed it on to a good friend, saying “this one, you won’t be able to put down”; and, through how many hands did it travel before it ended up here – in mine?

After a few hours in the bookstore, and three treasures in the crook of my elbow, we drove back to the camp. Feeling inspired, I finished rewriting chapter one of my WIP (phew!).

~

Part Three: The Thrill of the Small Town Paper

My husband loves to read the local newspaper from any small town. I might pick through a few articles when he buys one, but most of the time I stick to reading the book I brought. However, The Munising News – a newspaper printed since 1896 – is one you cannot ignore.

It’s physical presence demands attention, with a single sheet measuring almost a foot and a half wide. And, as the front page boasts, it’s “the only newspaper in the world that gives a darn about Alger County.”

The Munising News

The articles give the reader a glimpse into the workings of a small town, and they provide fuel for a writer’s mind. I’m tempted, for one, to write about the challenges of holding that paper in full spread: it’s quite a workout for the neck when you read it from left to right.

~

What occupies your writer’s mind when you’re unplugged and miles away from home?
[tweetmeme]