And Pretty Words All in a Row: Tightening Your Narrative Focus

First drafts are typically messy. We let our creativity guide us and the story goes where the story goes. It’s not uncommon for a first (or even second) draft to be a bit all over the place. Eventually we’ll get to a point where it’s time to tighten, not only the prose, but the narrative as well.

It’s time to look at your narrative focus.

Narrative focus is the theme or idea that ties a sentence, paragraph, scene, chapter, and book together. It’s what keeps the story flowing because everything is lining up like lovely little story roads. It helps keep the pace moving as events and details are building upon one another and making the reader feel like the story is going somewhere.

Like so many things in writing, narrative focus affects the macro and micro levels of your story.

Sentences
Have you ever read a run-on sentence? Odds are it lost its focus. It’s trying to do too many things at once and you’re not really sure what the point of the sentence is. Or you’ll find a sentence that’s trying to cram something in that doesn’t really go with the rest of it.

Bob ran for the car, jumping over the barrel of firecrackers he still couldn’t light, trying to ignore Sally screaming that she’d never leave the keys in the ignition and he was looking in the wrong place.

Um, what?

Do you have any idea what this sentence is trying to say? What’s important here? Going for the car, lighting the barrel of firecrackers, or the keys in the ignition.

Try keeping the focus of each topic together.

Bob ran for the car, ignoring Sally’s screams that she’d never leave the keys in the ignition. He jumped over the barrel of firecrackers he still couldn’t light.

Better, but there’s still trouble here, because what do firecrackers have to do with going for keys? This kind of narrative wobble is common when you’re trying to slip in details and aren’t sure how they fit. This can lead to unfocused paragraphs.

Paragraphs
Remember English class? One topic per paragraph? That still holds true in writing.

Bob ran for the car, ignoring Sally’s screams that she’d never leave the keys in the ignition. He was looking in the wrong place. He jumped over the barrel of firecrackers he still couldn’t light. Which they really needed to do if they had any chance of alerting Frank and the others to start the landslide. They’d never get out of this mess alive if they had to take down every single zombie by hand. Even with Sally’s marksman aim, they didn’t have enough ammo.

Could you tell me what this paragraph is about? I doubt it. It’s all over the place.

It’s common to see this type of paragraph when you’re still trying to figure out how a scene plays out. Ideas hit you and you write them down, going with the flow so to speak. Problem is, sometimes that flow is more of a spray and you end up with a scattered sense of the scene.

Try breaking those unfocused paragraphs up into individual thoughts, then adding transition sentences to lead the reader where you want them to go story wise. Show what’s important and take them to the next important detail. You might even try dramatizing the scene a little instead of just summarizing the action.

“They’re not there, you idiot!” Sally screamed.

Bob ran for the car anyway, picturing her keys dangling from the ignition. Even Sally made mistakes, left critical gear behind. Like a beat up Guns & Roses lighter snug in its leather holder on a key ring.

He jumped over the barrel of firecrackers waiting for a match. Or a lighter. Or hell, even a blowtorch if he found one between here and the car. Didn’t matter how those fuses got lit as long as they did—and fast. Frank was waiting with several tons of rock.

He glanced at the ridge above. Okay sure, maybe a landslide was overkill, but they’d never get out of this mess alive if they had to take down every single zombie by hand. They didn’t have enough ammo. Not even Sally’s freakishly good aim could make up for a lack of bullets.

Leaning through the car window, Bob yanked the keys from the ignition. The lighter winked at him as if sharing a private joke. Yep, Sally was wrong this time, and once they brought down that mountain he’d let her know it. He might not even let her forget it.

If they survived of course.

Feels more focused, doesn’t it? Not only that, this version is a lot more interesting that the last. It’s going somewhere, has a sense of drive and even stakes. It went from a loose paragraph to an actual scene.

Scenes
If you’ve ever gotten back a critique and read comments that said “the story wandered,” or “I didn’t know what the point was,” or "it felt slow," there’s a good chance that’s a scene that lost its narrative focus. While you will certainly have multiple topics in a scene, keeping them focused keeps the story moving scene to scene, same as it does paragraph to paragraph.

Let’s take the above scene and muck it up. The most likely culprits to losing focus? Backstory and description.

“They’re not there, you idiot!” Sally screamed. So like her, yelling at him like she had since the day they were married. He really should have jilted her then, and now it was too late.  

Bob ran for the car anyway, picturing her keys dangling from the ignition. Even Sally made mistakes, left critical gear behind. Like a beat up Guns & Roses lighter snug in its leather holder on a key ring.

They’d been his favorite band in school. He’d worn that old concert T-shirt at least once a week, sometimes twice if he didn’t think he’d see the same guys at the mall. He’d made that mistake before. Jimmy Dunhouser had teased him about it for months, called him a one-shirt wonder like that actually meant something.

Was Jimmy even still alive? Maybe he’d been eaten by a zombie in a concert T-shirt. Wouldn’t that be a riot?

Bob jumped over the barrel of firecrackers waiting for a match. Or a lighter. Or hell, even a blowtorch if he found one between here and the car. Didn’t matter how those fuses got lit as long as they did—and fast. Frank was waiting with several tons of rock.

He glanced at the ridge above. Gray stone covered in the deep, rich green of the pine trees. Smelled pretty good, better than the rotted flesh they’d all gotten used to. What they really needed was a case of those pine tree things that everyone used to hang from their rear view mirrors. He could hook one on his belt or his jacket pocket and carry that pine-fresh scent everywhere.

Frank was probably loving that smell right this minute up there on the ridge. Okay sure, maybe a landslide was overkill, but they’d never get out of this mess alive if they had to take down every single zombie by hand. They didn’t have enough ammo. Not even Sally’s freakishly good aim could make up for a lack of bullets. 

Leaning through the car window, Bob yanked the keys from the ignition. The lighter winked at him as if sharing a private joke. Yep, Sally was wrong this time, just like she’d been that day he’d told her there was a zombie in the yard. Called him an idiot then, too. They’d see who the real idiot was. Once they brought down that mountain, he’d let her know about her mistake. He might not even let her forget it either.

If they survived of course.

How much of that did you skim? A little? A lot? None at all? Did you notice how much weaker this version was than the last? Slower, less tense, even if some of the details might have been interesting on their own.

Even when the writing is good, if the detail bogs down the story or goes off on a tangent, consider getting rid of it. Perhaps move it somewhere else where it flows more naturally and fits the scene instead of sticking out. Or worse, tripping the scene up. Irrelevant details can draw focus away from what’s important and cause readers to miss the critical info. Then later, when they need that info to get what’s going on, they don’t have it and feel lost.

Think about how your story flows and how that information is conveyed to your reader. Then make sure it’s all flowing in the right direction.

Do you check for narrative focus or do you tighten it on instinct? Do you have any scenes that feel off and you don’t know why? Could a lack of focus be hurting it? 

For another example of narrative focus in a scene, try this.