Unnecessary and Extraneous Details

When I first started writing novels, I made the mistake of having anyone read my manuscripts. I asked a creative writing community college professor nearby to read and make comments on one of my manuscripts. When I got it back from him, he had redlined all the “unnecessary and extraneous” details, as he called them—my clues! He obviously was not a mystery writer or even a mystery reader. And then I bought some of his books and read—not all the way through, mind you—because his books were dreadful “artistic” novels that I found aimless, no fun at all. I could have kicked myself.

Mystery readers want to find out the solution to the mystery, reading until the end. Once the solution is revealed, they think back on what they read, remembering those “unnecessary and extraneous” details, and realize that if they had only put one and one together they could have solved the mystery themselves. They sometimes do solve the mystery or know who dunnit at some point in the book. From a writer’s point of view, we don’t want them adding it up too soon. But even when they do solve the mystery themselves, they require the facts and logic of the book to add up to the solution. I call this internal integrity, much like the research project design I studied in graduate school.

There are various methods to ensure internal integrity. The “best” method is via a novel’s outline, in which the author carefully plots the book making note of major clues, where they fit, adding complications, and then the author uses characterization, which adds to the internal integrity by making the characters authentic. The author then looks at the pacing the story making sure that the reader’s emotions engage in a pattern of peaks and valleys. In short, authors try to create a page-turner of a book.

When I say outlining is the best method, I don’t discount pantsers, those authors who start writing intuitively with the idea of the plot and seeing where it takes them, because I use a combination of outline and pantser techniques. I write an outline filling in with as many details as I can think of at the time, but then I also create a storyboard for each chapter to make sure I include events and dialogue that fulfills the function of the chapter. When I writing each chapter though, the pantser in me takes over and all those “unnecessary and extraneous” details come into play that actually connect the plot much like the function of pins in sewing, and really that’s what storytelling is—a construction of pieces that come together into one carefully constructed plot, a process called crafting.

When an author outlines, it is nearly impossible to capture the minutia. Until a scene is written the details haven’t been created, which is why there has to be some pantser in every writer. Writers can’t outline and connect minutia that doesn’t yet exist. Some writers wait until they have finished a rough draft to make their connections. I don’t find this satisfactory because by the time I finish, even when I write them all down, I forget their function and miss points I wanted to make. To continue the analogy, I hate ripping out seams and re-sewing. There are hairy details much like the ripped thread that must be flushed away so that the manuscript isn’t fuzzy. I’d rather get it right the first time so that preliminary readers aren’t lost.

To accomplish this, I write chapter by chapter and revise before I go onto the next chapter. Usually this occurs in intervals of two to three chapters making sure the details and connections pin the chapter in place, much like attaching one side of a garment making sure that it matches the other side. There are a few details in previous chapters that I may have to adjust, aside from word smithing and tweaking, my novel should be finished by the time I write the last word. Then I’ll let a professional editor dissect it. It should be interesting to see what the editor determines I need to rewrite.

I do have one problem though. One member of my critique group has made assumptions that she shouldn’t make. It reminds me of a TV ad in which a man cooking spaghetti sauce and holding a cleaver appears to be killing a cat that has jumped up on the counter when his sweetheart walks into the kitchen.

Reading between the lines is a fun game. But don’t blame the author when jumping to erroneous assumptions. In a way, I’m glad of her assumptions because the ending will come as a complete surprise, and yet I hope that she is not outraged when she finds that her assumptions are false. If she studies the logic and facts, she will find her error because for mystery writers and readers, internal integrity is a requirement underpinned by those “unnecessary and extraneous” details.