Greetings from Geekdom! If you’re not one of us but you have geeks in your life, you may have noticed that we’re a bit scarce these days. There’s an easy explanation: We geeks have been forced to up our game, reading-wise. Many of us have been trying to get caught up before tomorrow. Allow me to explain.
In a trying and often-brutal year like 2020, one of the few sources of solace for readers of adult epic fantasy has been a plethora of solid new editions to wonderful series-in-progress. We’ve been feasting on releases from the likes of Evan Winter, Jenn Lyons, and Joe Abercrombie, to name a few. But tomorrow comes the motherlode, when two more giants of the genre drop: The Burning God from R.F. Kuang, and Rhythm of War from Brandon Sanderson.
That’s 1,872 new pages of expansive storytelling, just from those two alone! Now do you see why we’ve been scarce? (Well, the lots to read thing, and then there’s the whole global pandemic thing. Still…)
I’ve written about my love of expansive storytelling and its benefits before. In fact it was three years ago on this same third Monday of November, the day before the last release of an edition of Sanderson’s Stormlight Archives. I was prompted to revisit the topic by a couple of things. Most recently, and most coincidentally, by Kathryn Craft’s post here at WU last Thursday. If you haven’t read it, you should. Kathryn’s posts are always great, and she’s a wonderful teacher. If you ever have the chance to attend one of her conference sessions (remember those?), don’t hesitate.
The piece is full of excellent advice for trimming excess in a manuscript, but in the course of offering it she said something that caught my attention: “If a reader can understand the story without one of its scenes, it isn’t needed.”
As much as I admire Kathryn and the piece, the more I thought about that one sentence, the more firmly it became lodged in my craw.
To Be Fair…
I suppose it comes down to one’s definition of the word needed as it relates to story. Or rather, the importance one places on what’s needed (versus wanted or desired) from a story. The first thing that popped in my head in response was something like: “If Van Halen fans can better understand Diamond Dave’s lyrics without Eddie’s guitar solos, they aren’t needed.”
I quickly realized that songwriting is too dissimilar to provide a solid counterpoint to a storytelling tenet. Which sent my mind scrambling for storytelling examples, and The Mandalorian sprang to mind (hey, I’m writing this on a Friday, and it’s one of the few shows I actually look forward to). If the overarching story is about Mando getting the Child home, did we really need the awesome fight with the spiders to save the frog-lady’s baby-eggs in S2, E2?
Again, I rejected Mando on the grounds that episodic television is probably an unfair counterpoint, as well. I’ll bet those of you who’ve read even a few of my columns here can guess what next popped into this geeky noggin. You guessed it: LOTR. As in: if the story can be understood to be Frodo and Sam getting the ring to Mt. Doom, and then getting home again (and how that epic experience changes them), do we really need the dozens of scenes that culminate in The Battle of the Pelennor Fields? (Setting aside the visit to the House of Tom Bombadil, of course—even I still wonder if that was truly needed.)
To be fair, I believe that many—if not most—manuscripts do indeed need tightening. I concede that there are a great many unneeded scenes, and many stories would be made better by their cutting. I also think that concision and a taut narrative serve some genres even more than others (thrillers in particular come to mind).
And also, to be fair, Kathryn’s definitive tenet struck at the heart of a longstanding issue of mine. In other words, I had a chip on my shoulder. For me, this wasn’t solely about concision or a question of what is actually excessive to story. For me, her essay also begs questions like:
•How long is too long?
•How much should length matter?
•Is shorter always better?
•To whom does length really matter?
Size Matters
Regarding that last question, I’m sure many would answer without hesitation that it matters to readers. But the hoopla (and good sales numbers) for the adult fantasies I mention at the top would suggest that’s an oversimplification. Anyone who’s spent any time researching the submissions process for traditional publication knows that there’s a lot of talk about size, including guidelines that some present as being set in stone. But the routine appearance of traditionally-published long books would suggest those are oversimplifying, as well.
Oversimplified or not, for most unpublished writers, size matters. In my case, to an extent that became not just a nuisance but a hindrance to my storytelling.
As you already know or have by now guessed, I love big books and I cannot lie. (Ahem. Sorry for the earworm.) Seriously, in the spirit of truthfulness, I must confess: Throughout my writing journey, I have struggled with wordiness in my prose (you haven’t noticed, have you?). But in spite of that ongoing battle, wordiness is not what I’m discussing here. I’m talking about length as it pertains to what I’ve termed expansive storytelling.
And few would argue that expansive storytelling includes scenes that aren’t necessary to the reader’s understanding of the story. I’m talking about scenes that enhance the complexity of the world-building; that deepen our understanding of backstory; that explore nuance in character relationships; that follow the divergent paths of secondary characters and plots; that reveal the motives and mindsets of protagonists and antagonists alike.
Deciding What Really Matters
As I said, over the years my fret over word-count was often a hindrance. It’s a worry I’ve mostly left behind. I can honestly say that in my fifteen-plus years of writing, some of my biggest regrets have been born of following advice intended to cut/trim/streamline my storytelling. I’ve cut not just scenes, but complete story elements and side-plots. The advice was always well-meaning, and from smart people whom I trusted then and still do. I willingly took it—eyes wide open. For example: my first trilogy’s story-arc was about two brothers—one raised inside of the Roman Empire, the other among their people (the Goths), and the conflicts that arose from it. In the name of cutting and streamlining, I actually removed one of the two brothers—a major POV character—from the entire first book of the trilogy. Sure, the move cut tens of thousands of words, but it also completely transformed the dynamic from my original intention, instigating years of revision work.
One of the things that assures me that I’ve grown as a writer is that in my most recent completed project, I ended up adding almost 30K words to book one of my second trilogy (also with the guidance of a couple of very smart and story-savvy mentors). I did this without spending a moment fretting over that little number in the lower left corner of my screen. I’m certain the story is better for it. I’m also sure the story could’ve been understood without the additions.
The regrets I mentioned were all due to things done in the service of getting a traditional publishing deal. I suppose I’ve decided that staying true to my story matters more than the means of its publication.
Your Cautionary Geek
I understand that my decision is not right for everyone. That this is not a ‘one size fits all’ proposition is sort of the point, after all. I also understand that artistic compromises should, and often must, be made. I get that we writers are often naïve, and that we need guidance—not to mention that the pros who work in publishing provide excellent guidance, for the most part. But I’m writing this essay because I wish I’d read something like it a decade ago.
As they say on Twitter, I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you get to decide how long your story needs to be.
You get to decide what scenes/story-elements/characters it needs, and why it needs them (or why readers should read them).
You can, and should, trust your gut when deciding what advice to take. And though you should always use your head as well, you should question its motives (is the ego at the wheel?).
Yes, you do have a lot to learn (we all do), but do not confuse wordiness with meaningful story-length or breadth. Only you can completely grasp your story’s ultimate intentions.
Know that there are those of us—a great many of us—who LOVE big books; who revel in wandering expansive worlds, viewing them from myriad perspectives; who adore referring to maps and character lists and glossaries. Lots of us love immersing ourselves in complex tales that bear little resemblance to a tautly-told stand-alone, even if we love those, too.
Even if it sometimes doesn’t feel like it, there’s room for expansive storytellers at the literary table. Even if some prefer to ignore us, we cannot be relegated to the kids table!
If all of Geekdom can be held in breathless anticipation of a Stormlight Archives book four that weighs in at damn-near a half-a-million words, who’s to say that your story needs to be held to any certain length?
As your cautionary geek, I hereby release you to read, write, and rejoice in expansive storytelling.
Phew, long post, right? Surprised? No? Since you made it through, has monitoring the length of a manuscript ever felt like a hindrance? Don’t lie—do you like big books? If so, this other brother won’t deny.
About Vaughn Roycroft
Vaughn Roycroft's (he/him) teacher gave him a copy of The Hobbit in the 6th grade, sparking a lifelong passion for reading and history. After college, life intervened, and Vaughn spent twenty years building a successful business. During those years, he and his wife built a getaway cottage near their favorite shoreline, in a fashion that would make the elves of Rivendell proud. After many milestone achievements, and with the mantra ‘life’s too short,’ they left their hectic lives in the business world, moved to their little cottage, and Vaughn finally returned to writing. Now he spends his days polishing his epic fantasy trilogy.
Another LOTR callback: A magical story is neither too long, nor too short, but is exactly what it needs to be.
:)
Thank you for taking the time to defend big books, Vaughn. (And for the reminder about R.F. Kuang’s new book. I’ll confess to not having read any of the titles in Sanderson’s current series. That needs correcting.)
I lean toward wordiness in my writing too. And I love getting lost for hours/days in a long book with a well developed world and intriguing characters.
Yes, there is a time and place for more streamlined prose. There are also times when a writer needs all the words and space they can get.
Wonder of wonders, the literary landscape is large enough for both extremes to flourish. Along with all the permutations in between. It’s one of the things I most love about the world of books: its range of options and flavors depending on the reader’s interests, mood, a d the amount of time available for reading.
Hey Ruth–Your point about the literary landscape is a perfect synopsis. Only took me 1,600 words to say it, lol. Here’s to the good fight, re: wordiness. It’s an ongoing battle for me. But I had one very savvy editor tell me that it’s much easier to trim excess than it is to figure out what’s missing and add it. So here’s to us!
Kuang’s such a bright new light, isn’t she? If you’re concerned about trying Stormlight, since each book is over 1,000 pages, maybe try Sanderson’s Mistborn series? It’s epic but not quite so expansive. And I’d say if you like it, you’ll love Stormlight.
Thanks much for your (succinct) insight!
Ha, Lisa–such a perfect first comment! And it’s concise, too (bonus!).
I guess all I can add is: Not all storytellers who wander are lost. :)
Thanks for a fantastic start to the day’s conversation!
It’s said that an “old” joke is one you’ve heard before, and a “classic” joke is one you want to hear again.
A too-long book would be one you wish would end, and a proper epic is one that only ends when you’re ready — or too soon.
Excellent metaphor, Ken. I think one of the reasons I’m here today is that, for me, Lord of the Rings ended too soon.
Thanks for the wise addition!
Hi Vaughn!
There are times I’ve wished a book to be longer!
I very much believe in doing what we want with our work. There are exceptions to every “Rule” out there. If our writing doesn’t make us excited or happy, what’s the point? Because, for most of us, it surely isn’t paying the bills -laughing!
Hi Kat!
Lol, on paying the bills–ain’t that for sure.
I’d say your work–books and essays–make a good case study. You use words (sometimes even made-up ones :) and phrases to convey a barge-load of personality and soul, and yet you never seem verbose or off-track.
I appreciate you, my friend!
Vaughn, I started reading this post in my inbox and went, who is this? Thus came over to WU to see.
This, oh heck yes: I’m talking about scenes that enhance the complexity of the world-building; that deepen our understanding of backstory; that explore nuance in character relationships; that follow the divergent paths of secondary characters and plots; that reveal the motives and mindsets of protagonists and antagonists alike.
And this: The regrets I mentioned were all due to things done in the service of getting a traditional publishing deal. I suppose I’ve decided that staying true to my story matters more than the means of its publication. I get marching to someone else’s drum in service of your own dream. This graf shouts writer maturity and vision, so yay, you!
As for myself, umm, not a great lover of the big book. Am a huge fan of the engaging book, whatever its length. And have been waiting for yours in what feels like and is, years!
Hi Cordia! Ha, I’m honored to have lured you to click through. I’d just read your kind praise when the tech came into the exam room (routine check-up), and while my BP normally reads a little high at the doctor’s (white-coat syndrome), I came in super low. Even the tech was surprised. So yay, you!
I’m also honored that, considering your inclination away from big books, you’d consider reading mine (fingers crossed, it’s engaging throughout).
Thanks much for your kindness, and for the BP relief, lol!
“Am a huge fan of the engaging book, whatever its length.”
Yes, exactly.
I love how you know yourself, Vaughn. You know what works for you and how what works for you is more important than all the so-call rules. That kind of self-reflection is huge . . . never lose that.
As an editor, I’ve got my nose in other writer’s manuscripts all day, every day. I can honestly say there is some truth to cutting scenes that don’t move the story forward. A fair chunk of manuscripts would benefit from a shave.
BUT (isn’t there always a but?) epic fantasy is written for a specific reader. There are certain expectations of the genre, and size is one of them. Because of this, I kept an open mind when recently editing a YA epic fantasy, the first in a series. Were there scenes I would cut? Nope. Shave, yes, and hone descriptions and setting to a finer grain, but cut, no way. Every scene in the 500+ manuscript moved the story forward.
Perhaps the line isn’t so clear. Perhaps it’s more like a gaping area of gray space.
As an epic fantasy writer, Vaughn, I’m pleased to know you are working within that big spance of area. Relish in it, my friend. In the end, that’s why we suffer through this gig. Life is too short to write anything that doesn’t make YOU happy.
Hugs
Dee
Hi Dee! Your perspective is such a welcome one for this conversation. And among your many excellent points, I think that the issue is particularly reliant on genre is maybe the most important. It’s one of the reasons I dislike the word-count conversation. Folks who don’t read or write epic fantasy often can’t even imagine that any book should be over 120K (or pick your number).
I used the word regret in regard to changes I made in response to editors’ notes, but today I’m wondering about my word choice (I regret using regret, lol). You mention that I know myself as a writer (thank you!), and I feel that’s as true as it’s ever been. And part of the reason is that I put in the work.
Even for the example I used, about taking out the brother, I’m only sure I wouldn’t do that again because I went through with it. I also know that the remaining brother’s story-arc is tighter and more meaningful because of it. You’re so right–even long stories need tightening (if not especially them).
Which makes your point about the gaping area of gray space so perfect.
Thanks, Dee! I so appreciate your ongoing support!
Vaughn, this post is a testament to what you have learned about your writing process. It is you! I too look for advice from others, jot down notes to try this, do that, but often I come back to realizing that what comes straight from my brain is truer to the story than advice from someone who hasn’t read it. I’ve taken classes, read books, done workshops and have learned a great deal about the writing process. I’ve been rejected by major agents who always found something that needed to be changed. Once, I even went that route and then the agent said following her suggestions had CHANGED MY VOICE. Damn. So I write. I do the work, it’s good for my soul. I also read and sometimes CONSIDER the editing advice of others. Last week I listened to Marilynne Robinson talk about her work and her process. It was fascinating. But each of us has our own process. Stay with it, enjoy it, it’s truly your own.
Hi Beth! I went through the same thing–was told that I’d changed my voice after going through to strip-down a manuscript that I’d been told needed serious stripping-down. That’s so frustrating! It’s funny, but my wife was the first reader to tell me I’d over-stripped one of my manuscripts, and I was so focused on the advice, I didn’t believe her. Lesson learned! She knows my work better than anyone.
You’re so right–we have to know ourselves well enough to learn to CONSIDER the advice we’re given. I’m finally getting there.
You’re also right to remind me to enjoy it. Hope you are, too. Beautiful day (a bit brisk, but sunny!) on this side of the lake. Hope so on your side, too. Thanks for the great addition to the conversation!
When thirsty, we’ll journey for however long it takes for one sip of clean, cold water. Keep ’em thirsty, V. That’s all that really matters.
If you can also offer them a purified, mineralized water that lights up their taste buds, then that’s all to the better.
I don’t tend to read epic fantasy, so super long books aren’t a prominent part of my bookshelf. But I have nothing against length. (That’s what she said.) A story takes what it takes.
Hi Jan! You make an excellent point. I spent an extra few hours reading Abercrombie’s latest last evening, and couldn’t help but think about this issue. And you’re so right about keeping them thirsty. Quite a few epic fantasists can keep me thirsty through the journey, even adding steps that are technically unnecessary. But a few (like Abercrombie for me), provide superior quality, all the way to the sentence level. For a 600 page book two (of three), that’s no small feat!
Hahaha, I should’ve known I could count on you to offer the first return shot on my size jokes. Can I now, for once in my life, claim that I’m a well-endowed… storyteller?
Thanks, in equal measure (heh), for the eloquent insight and for indulging my inner-adolescent, my friend.
Big books can be wonderful! Of course they can also be a bore, but even a short story can be too long if not written well. So here’s to long stories to dive in, live in, and be sad when they are over!
(When it comes to my own WIP, am still in doubt. It probably is too long and needs to be trimmed. But sometimes it is hard to choose what needs to go and what is allowed to stay. Sigh. And then I realise that I will need to put another bit in, so it gets even longer. Double sigh.)
Hi J!
“Big books can be wonderful! Of course they can also be a bore…” Wolf Hall, anyone? Too soon? Am I an unserious person for saying it out loud?
(Please don’t be too hasty in cutting. It can cause a LOT of additional work. And please don’t be discouraged in any way by your word-count. It’s just a number.)
Always great to hear from you! I hope things are well on your side of the pond. Thanks for weighing in, and stay safe as the weather changes!
The fact that book series are so popular, I’d hazard a guess that most readers do like expansive story telling, and the point you make here–that wordiness is not equal to a story’s length, necessarily–is a good one. Series just carve an expansive story into bite size pieces. :D
Hi Lara! I often wonder if the stories of the Star Wars and Marvel Universes are a boon to writers like Sanderson. Is it a scale that younger fans are more open to, or a mindset regarding story that they develop early? I’m not sure, but it seems likely.
Thanks, as always, for chiming in, and for your support, my friend!
Like Mr. Lincoln’s (possibly apocryphal) legs, the story has to be long enough to reach to ground while putting the reader’s eyes high enough to see the horizon.
I know what has to go in to the story, but not how long it will take to fulfill those needs until I write it. I should have known it would take many steps to make plausible what I need to be, but I’m not sure I would have started writing if I had, and still be at it, literally twenty years later, and only half finished.
Within those constraints, I struggle to make sure the telling is as tight and minimalist as it can be: the narrative commentary has to go, and I trust readers to have background literacy and knowledge of the world, and to remember the story they’re reading, which saves a lot of words. Often after they’ve been written because I had to get them out of my head, but nobody’s perfect.
Readers can handle it better than you think: they’re actually quite bright.
Hi Alicia–I think you’re so right, that maybe it’s best we didn’t know what we were up against at the onset, lol.
I also think you’re so right about reader trust, and how many words that saves.
Thanks for your wise additions–today as always. Here’s to tackling the second half of our long tales. Stay safe!
Think about it this way, Vaughn. If you hadn’t removed that brother you might not have been able to write this post. You might not have had the insights that led you to this point. Find your way to the writer-you and stay the course. There are readers who will thank you.
In many ways, you’ve exposed rules to be over-simplified. Word count is one of those rules. If humans land on Mars, explore it, make discoveries, and settle there are we to spend all our time talking about the number of miles they traveled?
I’ve read epics that were epic. I’ve also read epics that were bloated wastes of paper (in my opinion). I’ve also read a couple of cozy mysteries of 60K that were also boring wastes of paper where nothing more exciting than my own grocery list happened.
Length isn’t a matter of straight addition, a simple rule that’ll fit in a tweet. It’s a matter of variables that call into play numerous factors from genre to the tastes of the writer and the readers who share those tastes. Bloated and wordy can apply to any length book.
Hi Christina! So great to see so many of my fellow fantasy writers weigh in on this.
You’re so right–every step of the journey has led me to here, and I’m grateful for it. I learned so damn much from the editor that suggested the brother’s removal. That one element was a small part of a much larger development in my storytelling. As I say, perhaps I shouldn’t have used the word “regret.”
Ah–your last paragraph here… *chef’s kiss* So perfect. Thanks, as always, for enhancing the conversation. Hope you are well. Stay safe!
Vaughn, I like a meaty book, as long as the meat is fresh, and the bone structure solid. But I do notice I’m not buying as many big books as I used to. That said, I am now reading Caste (near 500 pgs.) by Isabel Wilkerson and Already Dead (near 450) by Denis Johnson, and their relative heft doesn’t seem troublesome.
But it’s been a while since I’ve tackled a true titan of a book, like War and Peace, which is a rich work, and makes a fine stepladder when not being read.
Hey Tom – I’m right around that 500 page mark, and I aspire to seem untroublesome. Fingers crossed for me?
I read War and Peace once, in about 1981. I’m not feeling drawn to return, but it’s nice to have a handy stepladder close to hand.
Thanks, as always, for weighing in with relative heft.
Hi, Vaughn. There’s a lot to unpack in this post. You make a good argument for longer books. One of the things you touched on is the status of the author. I have read (and I agree) that publishers will generally not accept a long book by an unknown or first-time author. A bankable author can get away with books that are 800 to 1,000 pages or longer. It seems the Harry Potter books got longer as the series evolved. I have always followed the rule that first-time authors should write tight and short (80,000 to 90,000 words). Part of that comes from my journalism training. Having said that, every author is different and writers should follow their instincts. Thanks for a thought provoking post. I hope you are well and stay safe.
Hi Chris! I think your first-time author axiom is all-too-true. It’s one of the reasons I had to let it go. I aspire to tightness, even to pager-turner status. But short is something I don’t think I can manage. Guess I should’ve studied journalism.
Thanks much for confirming my decision. And for always being such a great guy. Wishing you the best. Stay safe!
Vaughn, I love that term “expansive storytelling.” That’s exactly what a well-written long novel is. And whoever said that even short novels can be worded and bloated is right. A good story that contains everything it needs to contain, and nothing it doesn’t, will find its own length the way water finds its own level.
I, too, write long, complex stories. Would love to read yours some day.
Okay, Beth–you win the metaphor of the moment award for this post with this:
“A good story that contains everything it needs to contain, and nothing it doesn’t, will find its own length the way water finds its own level.”
Huzzah! Perfectly said. Your trophy is in the mail, lol. Thanks so much!
Long? Yes!
Wordy? No.
Ha! Perfect response. And very kind.
Thanks, Marcie!
This speaks to me. I’ve never actually understood it when a person says they love reading, but then says they don’t read big books. I love books in all sizes! I love Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell. Have you seen the size of that thing? And I wouldn’t cut a word.
(And that’s a mad book, isn’t it? A novel with footnotes? How the blue blazes did that see the light of day? No idea. But so glad.)
As a writer, I’ve written manuscripts that are slim and some that are standard. I have one I’m working on, but I keep trying to constrain it, but it just should be big. BIG! And I feel guilty for size, and I’ve cut it down, and it makes me sad.
But it is true about first time authors! (I’m not first time really, but…it’s complicated.) So the manuscript I’ll pitch next will be of polite-society acceptable size.
But a good story well told is a good story well told. (Printing costs are another matter.)
I like how LJ Cohen said it above.
Hey Marta! Great to hear from you. I’m with you–have NO idea how Clarke got away with it, but am SO glad she did.
Man, do I feel you on that battle against a story that just wants to be BIG! I finally surrendered. Um, to the story, if that’s no clear. Yeah, it gets to be as big as it feels it needs to be.
You do have a point on printing costs. And I’ve heard that it used to be the major deciding factor in this issue for the Big 5 (or how ever many they were when this reigned supreme). Something about the spines, I think. But it doesn’t seem like an issue with paperbacks anymore. I’ve had 1000 page books in paperback that held up just fine to several readings.
Isn’t LJ’s comment the best? Yours is pretty stellar, too. Wishing you the very best. And for the chance to let a story sprawl one day. Thanks much for weighing in!
Thank you, Vaughn. I just finished a Civil War historical novel that is “too long” by traditional standards at 180,000 words. It will come down some in revision, but not the 60,000 words everyone expects without majorly impacting the story. I’ve been faunching about this for months as I knew the book would be dead in the water in present form.
In the end, I’ve decided to trim as much as I can, but to take Hemingway’s advice to F. Scott and not whore myself out for the sake of publication. Stay true to the story.
A friend on the Litforum pointed this most excellent article out. An editor from the UK had another one about long epic fantasies. I’m going to take this as a sign to proceed on fearlessly.
If I can not bend the will of Heaven, I shall move Hell, as they say.
Hi Julie–So great to hear from another expansive storyteller. Particularly one from a genre other than epic fantasy.
I confess, in hindsight I can see that the genesis for my “brothers on opposite sides of a conflict” idea was surely born of a love of John Jakes’ North and South. The Civil War is such a vast canvas–without even knowing any more about it, I feel like you’re making the right decision.
In the name of full disclosure, my WIP was at 130K. It was a version I cut significantly after first signing with an agent. Over an almost two year period, it was shopped and roundly rejected. When I was trying to decide what to do next (start another book, self-pub, etc.) I spoke to a beta-reader who is also a wonderful story-development editor. She advised me to more deeply develop one of my two protagonists, and I never looked back. Hence the addition of 30K. And my determination to stay true to it, publication be damned. Your final quote rings true to me.
Wishing you the very best with it! Please thank your friend for passing the piece along. And thank you for sharing your experience, and for your kind praise. Have a lovely holiday weekend!