Meat & Potatoes, Corn, Peas, and Beats

By Keith Fisher

No, I didn’t spell it wrong. Let me explain, but first, Theres a book lauch party in Fillmore today. Click on the link at the bottom.

In critique group this week, we heard a story about a writer who explained the need of adding potatoes to a manuscript. In the simile, the manuscript is dinner, the dialogue is the meat, and the narration is the potatoes. Some writers are carnivores and their meat is spectacular, but they have to go back and add the potatoes for a well-rounded dinner.

That is the syndrome I’ve fallen into, chopping the narration, making the dialogue stand-alone.

In Writer’s Secrets, published by LDStorymakers, Linda Paulson Adams compares the bits of narration to the glue that holds the dialogue together.

I was told in critique group, parts of my dialogue needed beats. This is a common suggestion for me. I know what it means.

In the book, Self-Editing For Fiction Writers, by Renni Browne and Dave King, we learn. Beats are little bits of action interspersed through a scene, such as a character walking to a window or removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes—the literary equivalent of what is known in the theater as stage business.

When beats were mentioned, the lady who’d told the story about meat and potatoes said, “hey what are beets?” We had a pot luck dinner at critique group this week. So, by the time we got to my chapter, It was late, and we were getting loopy. We all leaped to the comparison of the meat & potatoes story, and the beats. Someone said something like, “Beets? Okay, lets get our vegetables strait.”

We were left with explaining the concept of beats, not beets. I always think of rock n roll. The beat makes the rhythm easier to play. Beats interspersed with good dialogue keeps the reader going, and removes the stumbling blocks.

Whatever vegetable or binder you prefer, leaving them out makes a reader stumble. If it’s hard to read, it’ll get tossed. But Keep in mind, as Linda Paulson Adams said, using too much glue, can ruin the project. Beats, potatoes, or beets can also be overdone.

Good luck with your writing—see you next week.

Come to the book launch Click on the picture and I'll see you there.

Beats Me Up

By Keith Fisher

I'm sorry for the late hour, but I just got back from fishing.

Recently, at critique group . . . well, let me go back. When I first began to write seriously, I wrote stories with more exposition. I read a few books that told me to use more dialogue. Then I learned not to use so many attributions. Also, having a lot of blank, white space on a page was a good thing because the reader can read it quickly.

After attending a conference I knew I should avoid talking heads so I used meaningful dialogue. Stuff that had meat in it, none of the:

"Nice weather today."
"Yes it is."
"What are you going to do today?"
"Don’t know—what about you?"

To be fair, I didn’t use that kind of dialogue anyway.

Then someone pointed out I need more beats, and I started to add them, and add them, and add them. Then at critique the other day, you guessed it, too many beats. I was devastated. I came home and pulled the books out. I studied everything I could, trying to figure out where I went wrong. I knew my dialogue was lacking because I’d been reading it. I added the beats to show what my characters were doing. Then I realized there is a fine line.

According to Self Editing for Fiction Writers by Renni Browne and Dave King:

Beats are little bits of action interspersed through a scene, such as a character walking to a window or removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes—the literary equivalent of what is known in the theater as stage business. Usually they involve physical gestures, although short passages of interior monologue can also be considered a sort of internal beat. Pg. 102

The line between perfect dialogue and drivel is fine, but it can be felt. When you read what you wrote and it sounds like mechanical clickity-click-clack, it needs more beats. If it sounds like you are saying, said too much, lose some of the attributions. The fine blend of beats and attributions can be heard when reading aloud. Like a musician can hear when a string is out of tune, writers and readers can hear when dialogue is out of tune.

I am learning to stay away from attributions. I’ve removed them almost entirely. I use beats instead, but I use them only when the reader can’t tell who is speaking or when the conversation becomes too mechanical. I’m learning to use beats like playing my guitar. I can feel when a string gets slightly out of tune, and I’m becoming a better writer.

Good luck with your writing—see you next week.