The Watson, Little Publishing Masterclass
Developing as a Writer
Indie Novella is delighted to be working with literary agency, Watson, Little to bring industry knowledge direct from the literary agent to authors and promote diversity in publishing. We are thrilled to be speaking again with literary agent, Laetitia Rutherford, on the topic of developing our craft as writers and where manuscripts can benefit from additional focus.
The first Indie Novella Writing Course saw a wonderful masterclass from Laetitia on the role of a literary agent and how to navigate a submission process. In this masterclass, Laetitia, interviewed by Damien Mosley, focuses on the writing itself and the importance of making a manuscript the best it can be.
When a writer comes to an agent, it is usually with the question, how do I get my manuscript published. Do you think the question should be flipped and the writer should ask themselves questions to consider?
I think there are two sides of it. There's the quality of the manuscript and how polished and well thought out that is but then also the question of how you present it and of course that's difficult to do without having developed the manuscript pretty Polished by the point you're approaching
literary agent. You do need to do both. You need to think about how do I talk about
this book – you know what is the premise and now you need to present the idea, and that can be developed by testing it out on other people. Briefly encapsulate that idea in a few words – it's no myth the what people say about trying to pitch a novel in a sentence.
Sometimes a writer can begin at the very beginning of their process and know what would happen if I woke up one day and I was in a different time or what would happen if I fell in love with this totally unsuitable person or and then write the novel from there. But other times a writer can be writing their book and not really be that clear about what the premise is so I think it's definitely worth developing those two things in whichever creative order they may actually unfurl.
When working with authors on their second novel, do they struggle to com up with that second idea?
Often that is quite a classic thing that people encounter – the difficult second novel. My writers haven't necessarily stumbled but that's not to they may have struggled with it a bit themselves. All books come with struggles, they all come with some false starts and rethinking of things that they thought were going to work, and then they hit on what's really exciting, what will really excite
Sometimes major things have changed, like point of view. If a character was in first maybe putting it in third or if it was in third maybe it needs to be in first. Quite often we will add an additional point of view. I've had that with several authors; with Anika Scott for her second novel, The Soviet Sisters, she had originally written it from the perspective of one sister and that a really major suggestion made was it needs to be told from both sisters points of view because you can get so much contrast and counterpoint and plotting and withholding and gave a lot more exciting possibilities to the plot. The interest and the texture of a novel can be made much more exciting sometimes by another point of view. And that's something that's difficult to do from the first draft because the first draft you may just have the one character which you’re really working to get them right.
With the point of view do you need to sometimes hone your authors that if it's getting overly
complicated?
That is a really important thing to think about and get right and work out that balance. You know proximity with a character your relationship with them and how the writer moves the ‘lens’ - it is
important but it's not exactly the same as a film but it's useful to think about how you work the lens. If it's third person part of your job is to work out how to move to that distant panning shot, move through time quickly and then Zone in much further into the intimacies of the character.
Sometimes we see writers provide a first draft and it's not actually clear what the story is – it becomes almost a string of anecdotes
It is really important to think, what is it that this is really about? That can't be answered by just describing the incidents – you do need lots of incident and the invention of incident is a challenge for many writers. Generating that takes invention and creativity and manifesting a story into action, really think about what it's about.
I sometimes think about it as a nerve. What is the nerve? If we are to touch that nerve, the most the raw, tender, the defining emotion, what is it? What is the tone? What emotions is this evoking for the reader? How is this working on a more visceral level – it's not just the entertainment of the plot. It's not just people moving around in Those are really important questions and will help the writer.
Do you have examples of framing references from literature that you love?
It's a really useful idea, definitely a useful structural idea, and there are different examples of it. Crime fiction is a huge example with many different approaches to that. The procedural framework is probably the more extreme end because you have lots of structural tools for how the story is going to unfold. You’re going to tell your story using that framework, but something like looser isn’t using procedural elements—it might be using a motif, or it just doesn’t follow that framework as closely. You also have the common trope of the ticking time bomb. If you’ve got the trigger being the body, there are certain milestones that need to be covered during the investigation, which can help provide your frame. The sporting competition is an even more locked room in a way—a finite framework that is incredibly useful.
Another analogy might be giving your characters something they need to achieve, something they need to find or get. It can be a pretext, something quite light and very much at the tip of the iceberg. You can think of it as the tip of the pyramid—a point that’s very clear and sharp, but that doesn’t encompass everything it’s about. There’s all the other stuff that’s driving, why they want it and the things that will involve them as they pursue that goal. It could be something small like trying to get membership in a country club. There’s a TV series on Netflix about that at the moment. But within that framework, you get the whole portrait of this society, the class conflict, the character dramas, the story of a marriage, and the stories of various different friendships. They can do what in old TV parlance used to be called the story of the week, where she goes to get a dress and somebody else has already got that dress. Small incidents also fuel the character drama and the larger quest. Those kinds of frameworks are very useful because they give you a unity that goes back to the principles of classical Greek drama: the unity of time, place, and action. If you’ve got everything that can happen within that time and place, and it’s a finite set of actions, it’s a very useful way to think about how to construct your piece.
One area we talked about was the "show, don’t tell" advice, and it would be great to get your thoughts on this. For a lot of writers, this almost becomes quite circular—if I’m just showing, is that plotting? Sometimes it can be a bit too plodding. But if I’m telling, how do I know if I’m overtly telling? It might link with the language you’re using, but it's really something to consider. But while "show, don’t tell" is widely repeated and is good advice, it's important to remember that novels are ultimately a storytelling medium. There's a place for telling as well, especially when it helps with pacing and gives the narrative some variety. It ties back to the point about point of view and distance—sometimes it's necessary to step back and let the narrator tell the story to keep things moving and interesting.
Voice: What do you enjoy when it comes to a narrative voice? What appeals to you and is it a case of voice over the subject matter?
It’s difficult to define, but you know when you’re in the company of a voice that’s really engaging. The use of idiom is something you really want out of an interesting narrative voice. For them to have an idiomatic quality, to have a texture to their language, is a bit different from anything else. I was reading something by a writer who is Bulgarian, and she’s writing in English. We would like to suspend our disbelief that everything in this novel is taking place in a different language that’s not English. There are references to other countries in Europe, the border, and the sort of cultural implications of that locally, but it’s quite awkward when the whole thing is written in English and sometimes with accents. You can’t exactly represent another experience. The novel is its own experience. So, I would recommend trying to find ways that are original to the novel that bring a flavour of what you’re trying to create. Let’s say if you’re writing in a historical period, they spoke differently then, but to repeat exactly as it was isn’t going to be effective for a contemporary novel. What you’re creating in the contemporary novel is something a bit different, but it will take from those sources. So, what I recommend is trying to develop some kind of idiom that will carry a bit of the flavour of what those sources are and develop that sense of authenticity for your character. It’s something you’ve actually created for them, using all those sources. It’s not pure invention at all, but it’s using the labour of all those sources and putting it into the voice.
It’s lovely to see the flavour, the texture—something idiomatic. I often really love dialogue and look forward to it. I think we all know when it’s going to break into dialogue because, when talking about character point of view and the things we’re discussing, character is one thing, but relationship is even better in a way. Characters don’t exist in a vacuum, and the relationship between them, when they communicate with one another, and when a character can open up from their own thought processes and from being trapped in the show-don’t-tell dynamic—that’s when they talk to each other, and that’s great when it’s engagingly done
When it comes to character dynamics, especially when working with multiple characters in a novel, is there any advice you would give on how to hone the supporting cast?
When crafting character dynamics, especially with multiple characters in a novel, it's crucial to understand the roles of secondary characters. Their primary function is to enhance the main character's role, helping to advance the story without overshadowing the protagonist. Writers might encounter secondary characters who are interesting on their own but struggle to find ways to integrate them meaningfully into the plot. These characters should add depth and complexity, but their development must serve the narrative's progression and not just exist for interest's sake.
Balancing the depth of character development with the overall length of the novel is also key. A longer word count doesn’t necessarily mean a better or more developed story. It's more effective to achieve powerful narrative effects with fewer words, making every word count. This approach ensures that the novel remains engaging and doesn't overwhelm the reader. When fleshing out characters, it's essential to consider how they differ from others, how they fit into the specific drama, and what drives them personally. Understanding a character's background and motivations helps create a character with depth and realism, making them feel alive within the narrative.
I also wanted to ask about the concept of honing your language as a writer, and to link this with last year’s Granta and the Best of Young British Novelists, which is a once-a-decade series. It picks up so many wonderful new writers with interesting voices. I was curious if you have favourites among these new voices?
I really loved Julia Armfield. You mentioned her earlier—she was on that list, wasn't she? I believe so, but you'll be testing my memory and the breadth of my reading reserve. Her novel Our Wives Under the Sea is a great example of a writer who had the courage to limit what she was writing about. The essential elements of the novel were quite few, but she went into a lot of depth with them, and the language was a big part of the experience. The story revolves around two characters, two women, which is unusual and less explored in fiction. It’s set in a fantastical situation where one of them goes on a below-sea mission, which is realistic, but it’s portrayed as if she returns from an otherworldly place, a place where humans can’t survive. They then try to survive with this strange experience that one of them has had. The visceral detail and the balance of surrealism and realism are brilliant in that novel. It’s tender and beautiful, with the dynamic of the love relationship at the center, exploring how it changes and survives when one has had such a transformative experience. It’s beautifully done, and I loved it.
Another novel I loved recently is Patricia Lockwood’s No One Is Talking About This. She has a very exciting voice. I haven’t read her memoir, Priestdaddy, which was her first book, though many people have, and I really should. But the novel stands out. She has a distinctive voice, and as a cultural critic, you can see that critical perspective in her writing, which I enjoy. The novel exists on a provocative conceptual level, almost like an essay, a conversation about ideas and society, refracted through the experience of living in the internet age, which we all do. The book consists of short sections that feel pixelated, almost like the way she’s written it. But it also has a clear story arc about love, family, and very classical ingredients. It has a beautiful arc that’s classically delivered within this completely non-classical, fragmented texture. It feels very voice-driven.
Another exciting aspect of the novel is that it asks a really big ethical question. Lockwood is American, and as we've seen, there’s been a pushback on abortion rights and women’s choices, which is hugely alarming. She addresses the ethical dilemma of handling a situation where you're having a baby with profound disabilities, and what you do in a highly traumatic, dangerous situation for both the child and the mother. It’s a life-or-death situation. The novel explores this contentious question beautifully, with many pillars, including the style, through which she navigates all these themes. It's brilliant.
Crime Fiction Mini-Masterclass
Crime fiction is a genre that revolves around a crime and incorporates elements of suspense and thriller, though it differs from those genres in certain ways. While suspense and thrillers may involve crimes, crime fiction specifically focuses on the investigation and resolution of the crime. It often includes a blend of investigative elements, and while it can be procedural, it doesn't always have to be.
The essence of crime fiction is that a crime occurs and must be solved. This genre typically follows a framework with a clear beginning, middle, and end. Although not all aspects of the story may be neatly resolved, the crime itself is generally solved by the end, which is part of why readers enjoy it. Suspense, twists, surprises, and secrets play a significant role in engaging readers and driving the narrative.
When discussing standout books in the genre, Final Girl by Riley Sager is a notable example. This thriller, which I read a few years ago, features an emotional and somewhat feminist dimension. The term "final girl" originates from horror films, referring to the last person standing after a massacre. The book is set in a thrilling American wilderness and maintains high stakes throughout. The characters are compelling, and there's a strong sense of justice and retribution that propels the narrative.
For writers considering whether to focus on standalone thrillers or series crime fiction, both approaches have their merits. Standalone thrillers often hinge on a compelling concept or big idea that grabs attention. Series crime fiction, on the other hand, benefits from having a strong, memorable character who can extend across multiple stories. The character and their world should offer something fresh and engaging, even if certain elements like crime scenes or investigations are recurring.
For instance, Ajay Chowdhury series features a unique detective, Kamal Raman, who brings a fresh perspective to crime-solving. Raman, originally from India, finds himself working in London after a failed Bollywood crime investigation. His background and personal challenges add depth to the series, making it stand out.
In contrast, standalone thrillers can benefit from high-stakes, thought-provoking concepts. For example, a story delving into AI and technology can create excitement and raise important questions about society's future. An engaging quest with twists, dark characters, and entertaining elements can captivate readers while prompting them to consider larger societal issues.
The greatness of crime fiction lies not just in solving the crime but in what the crime reveals about ourselves and the society we live in. Crime novels can serve as a brilliant vehicle for exploring various aspects of our world. For example, Julia Crouch noted that while the procedural elements of crime fiction might be less exciting to write, they provide the structure for exploring deeper themes and societal issues.
The setting of a crime novel, whether it’s a bustling city or a rural village, also plays a crucial role. It can reflect and examine social issues like poverty and wealth, contributing to the narrative’s richness. Cozy crime fiction, like that of Richard Osman, often features charming rural settings and engaging characters. These stories, while often implausible, offer a delightful escape and resonate with readers through their relatable and entertaining elements.
Overall, crime fiction is a versatile genre that can entertain, challenge, and illuminate the human experience