The tools that almost got me a Pulitzer

Midwinter 2008

By Tom Snyder

Without a doubt, the most popular articles in boating magazines are the personal accounts, by amateur writers, of rewarding and sometimes exciting coastal cruises. Who among us hasn’t been inspired to visit a new cove after reading the straightforward, honest, what-you-see-is-what-you-get stories of a marvelous weekend voyage?

But how much better these stories could be with the prudent application of time-tested literary devices used by professional writers like myself. I would like to offer to all budding boating chroniclers a brief primer on the tools of a journeyman storyteller.

Who am I to offer this expertise? Who indeed! Over the past decade, in addition to writing (award-winning) articles for a prestigious sailing magazine that literally covers every square mile of the Gulf of Maine, I have also authored the yeasty, annual Snyder Family Newsletter. You may even have read the much-admired issue, “The Kids Excel in After School Activities!”

I know what you are thinking: “How can a normal person hope to compete with such a gifted and trained writer?” Well, don’t be silly. I am not suggesting that you will ever be that good, but what I can do on these pages is teach you a few narrative techniques. These tools of the trade can be separated into two categories:

 

Category 1: Tools that are too subtle for you.

Dramatic irony is very powerful stuff. Don’t try it. You might think that artificially altering the name of your vessel to “What Could Go Wrong” will up the ante. Indeed it will, but things can go horribly wrong with irony. Leave that to experts like Danielle Steele.

Deus ex machina – the unexpected introduction of a device for plot-entanglement resolution – is a tempting approach. It worked for Homer and, to a lesser extent, for Shakespeare, but it won’t work for you.

Flashback is an example of nonlinear narrative, thrilling in the hands of an expert, confusing and depressing in the hands of a self-appointed auteur. I used it last month in my article on holding tanks and a prior meal at Mexicali Blues. It worked there, of course, but even I was treading on black water.

A deal with the devil works in “Damn Yankees” and in anything by a German author, but you are not a real author, and you probably aren’t a real German.

Category 2: A tool you can probably handle.

Foreshadowing is easy, reliable, and just right for the coastal cruiser. With this approach, you will drop subtle hints about plot developments that will come later in your story. Remember, it is perfectly acceptable to add false details to your nonfiction sailing articles, especially for this magazine. Here are some suggestions:

Include an old guy on the wharf in your opening paragraph. He should display a weapon, like a knife, even if he is simply whittling a decorative trifle – perhaps a small lobster pot. You might even describe him as a strangely disturbing character. When, later in your story, you foul your propeller on a lobster pot, your readers’ reaction will be all the stronger for their unconscious anticipation. Some male readers will even say aloud, “I saw that coming.”

Foreshadowing can also be effected through a character who predicts the future. In this case, you should use an old man sitting on a dock. He reports a vivid dream in which battery bank “A” slips under 12 volts. When this actually occurs in your story, readers will get that creepy sensation, which is the true hallmark of all great fiction. Note: This time there is no need to have the old man whittling. Or he could be. This is up to you.

Red herrings are great fun, and are also an approved technique for false foreshadowing. The whole point of this approach is to fool the reader. Start your story with an old man sitting on a wharf. He should say to his dog that he has a nagging headache, but that it’s probably no big deal. Dark clouds covering the sun would be a nice touch at this point. Later in your story, when no one is diagnosed with a massive alien creature growing within their brain, your readers will experience that feeling of deception that is the true hallmark of all great fiction.

Remember, the point is to have fun with your writing. Take risks. Stretch yourself. Take a course on Tolstoy at the Adult Ed center: You may just discover that Marxist Realism is a good vehicle for describing anything to do with diesel engines.

Tom Snyder sails out of Peaks Island, Maine.