The book has now passed 65.000 words, despite culling over 8.000 words worth of fluff, guff and unnecessary shenanigans. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to work much on it over the next month or two as we are in the middle of moving, and the new place is in need of a loving hand and the occasional use of a sledgehammer. Very exciting.
Hope to have an update around Christmas when things are less chaotic and I can resume work.
That said, I just came back from a research trip in Edinburgh. If I had known a research trip would be that fruitful, I would have made up an excuse to go much sooner. There were a few objectives, but the most important was to visit key locations from the book in and around Edinburgh and get a feel for their physical context, and how their geography would affect the narrative.
Now, I’ve been to Edinburgh before (and I quite recommend it) but those excursions were for other, alcohol fueled, reasons. On this trip I got to examine the city from the viewpoint of someone building a narrative and it changes how you experience the city. It ceases to be a series of individual buildings or sites, and becomes a massive group of interconnected systems; roads and sewer connections inform how the city operates, smells and functions, parks become scenes instead of just scenery, and institutions become places of power and influence. Your characters start roaming the streets and the streets influence what they can do, both limiting in scope and expanding in opportunity.
The trip was simultaneously disheartening and invigorating. Disheartening that the real life locations for some scenes are simply not suitable, and invigorating that I could find alternatives sometimes just a few hundred meters down the road.
For example, I initially wanted to place a fictional bookshop at Arthur Conan Doyle’s place of birth, here if you are interested. What I envisioned was a lone edifice holding out against the encroaching dark, both literally and metaphorically, but after reviewing maps from the time period and visiting the location it became evident that it didn’t work. Feeling dejected, my wife and I wandered the neighborhood looking for an alternative, and while searching for a caffeinated beverage, found it. Just around the corner were several smaller, Georgian style buildings that would fit the imagined book shop, including smaller cobbled passageways for those illicit activities or escape routes.
It may sound silly, but grounding the story in a real location with real limitations feels like the correct approach. And this is just one example of many. We wandered about the old buildings of Edinburgh University, toured cathedrals and went strolling around the park near Blackford Hill. The Scottish Mining Museum was also a great experience.
Geography is especially important to me. It’s a pet peeve of mine when liberties are taken with facts. If locals can call out on something because it didn’t exist as portrayed, such as a location or a distance central to the story, the book isn’t accurate enough. Unless explicitly excused (read: alternate timeline, genius inventor or similar), I simply prefer it to reflect reality.
Personally I enjoy writing around limitations, it tends to improve the reading experience. This extends to technology, use of historical characters, and so on. Taking liberties is fine, in context, but personally I try to stick to reality as much as possible. It grounds what could otherwise become a flight of fancy.
And interestingly, it turns out some of my choices in geography were dead on, so kudos to me, and the very lovely people at the Scottish Mining Museum and Edinburgh University who dedicated their free time, hospitality and were patient and helpful with my very specific queries.
Anyway, I wanted to get this post out before I shatter my spine carrying moving boxes. Here are a few tips I have been thinking about recently to help you tighten up your own writing.
Weasel words – “Maybe we could do something new.”
Anyone with an academic background probably had a conversation about weasel words. These are words that dilute your argument or commitment and that reduces the value of what you’re saying. Unless your aim is to dilute your statement or create a feeling of indecision, consider purging it from your writing. Make it something you consciously choose to use.
Filter words – “Jerry sensed (or thought or understood or spotted) the weather changing.”
Or maybe the weather changed. Similarly to ‘Weasel’ words, ‘Filter’ words are used to mediate or interpret a situation through the character, instead of giving the reader a visceral impression. Its the difference between seeing a recording, or witnessing it in-person.
This article explains it quite well.
TL;DR – Book is going well. Be careful with weasel words and make an active choice to use filter words in your writing.
Quirky Perceptions 
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