Reclusive author and pop-culture in-joke, J.D. Salinger, passed-away at his home yesterday from natural causes. He was 91. Salinger published his magnum opus, The Catcher in the Rye, in 1951, and it skyrocketed him to instant legendary status. Unable to cope with fame and all its trappings, Salinger quit publishing and became hermit, living out the rest of his days in a small house in New Hampshire. His last published work appeared in The New Yorker in 1965.

Rumors about him continuing to work, but refusing to publish, surfaced and his name became synonymous with phrases like "reclusive genius" and "troubled artist." A neighbor once told the press Salinger had confided in him that he had written some 15 or more novels which remain unpublished, supposedly kept in a safe in his home. "I love to write and I assure you I write regularly, but I write for myself, for my own pleasure. And I want to be left alone to do it," Salinger told Louisiana-based The Advocate in an extremely rare 1980 interview .

Salinger did publish other works, many of which feature a family by the name of "Glass," and remained the critics' darling for years, despite everything he did to dissuade everyone from giving him any attention, whatsoever. Eventually, his behavior was derided by most of the public, yet Salinger himself remained a character of popular speculation. A character named "J.D. Salinger" appeared in the film, Field of Dreams.

In 1980, a troubled man touted the book as his sole reason for shooting and killing John Lennon. "This extraordinary book holds many answers," Mark Chapman is famously quoted. Lennon's widow, Yoko Ono, held the media to an embargo on printing Chapman's name in articles about Lennon and his death in an attempt to dissuade similar incidents; Ono did not want Chapman to become famous for his crime.

Rye is also cited as the driving influence behind the cinematic rise of the antihero in the years immediately following it - an influence which is said to continue to this day. The protagonists of such films as Rebel Without a Cause, The Graduate, and even John Hughes' The Breakfast Club are said to owe their everything to Holden Caulfield.

While The Catcher in the Rye remains on the "suggested reading" lists of many American highschools, it was a divisive and controversial subject for decades. It was "required" reading in some schools and banned from the curriculum, and even libraries, of others. Many feared misguided students would, like Chapman, be influenced by Caulfield.

Jerome David Salinger was born in 1919, served in the Army, and published his first story in 1940. Though J.D. Salinger sued several times to keep biographies of him to a minimum, details of the author eventually came to light as those who had associated with him, including his daughter, penned their own books and gave interviews in which they discussed him. Despite his best efforts - or perhaps because of them - Salinger was painted as an egotistical eccentric who was not very loving to his children.

© C Harris Lynn, 2010

Raymond Obstfeld begins his fantastic tutorial, The Novelist's Essential Guide to Crafting Scenes by noting all the great "moments" we instinctively recall when we reminisce on a work. Specifically, he states, "...the more 'moments' a work has, the more powerful it is." And by moments, he means scenes.

I disagree, though not entirely.

As Obstfeld notes, we do not recall entire works; when we think of a work, we recall those powerful scenes which held the most impact - the "You complete me" moments. However, as I learned from writing music, you cannot simply chain together a string of great riffs, you have to have a progression - a build-up which not only makes those moments weight, but which either provide contrast to strengthen those scenes or provide some quality against which those moments can be compared. For the most part, this comes down to pacing.

The most effective way to illustrate this is through dialogue: One "great" line after the next is cheesy. Just think of all those B-raters you've seen in which the protagonist spews nothing but great one-liner after zinger after clever retort, usually followed by a "signature line" or catchphrase. Those movies are called "B-raters" for a reason, and that's sometimes the reason.

There are many factors to be considered when contemplating your story's structure and leading-up to a powerful, "money," scene can include one or all of them. Exposition (including characterization, relationships, history, et.al.); character interaction; establishment and reinforcement of point-of-view; setting, tone, and atmosphere; style; it is even acceptable - and sometimes best - to literally point-out the fact that what follows is a pivotal scene:

And then, he said...
That was when it happened.
I'll never forget the look on his face when...

That approach - the stylistic approach - can be tricky, even if nowhere near as direct as the examples given above, because you run the risk of disturbing the suspension of disbelief by authoritatively (authorally?) calling the reader's attention to the fact that what follows is important. For the most part, great scenes - while they must obviously be literally written - tend to just happen. Once you have one, it can be like lightning in a bottle, around which you can mold the rest of your work. Leading into a great moment is often easier once the Great Moment has been accomplished, and so becomes a bit of a puzzle to be laid-out backward from that point.

Pivotal scenes are those which form the main points of any writer's chart or outline, if he works in such a manner, but not every scene has to be pivotal to the story in such a manner. Great moments can be created in simple dialogue exchanges, clever writing or observations, and so on.

In thinking back on Raymond Chandler's The Big Sleep, I remember the scene in which the "victim" was drugged and photographed, but I remember the writing itself more than anything else. That's telling, because the novel opens with the scene I remember; studies on memory have proven that people tend to remember the first and last items in a list more easily, thus it follows that this extends to larger works and other concepts. IOW, I recall the opening scene of the novel and the writing style more than anything else in the book. Generally speaking, this would not be a good thing, but Raymond Chandler is a god among men and I can recall the entire plot and many of its twists and turns, characters, and concepts with little more effort. Still, the opening scene remains the big "moment" I recall foremost whenever I think of The Big Sleep.

If you pack a piece with nothing but memorable scenes, clever observations, witty writing, and utterly meaningful dialogue, you run the risk of toning everything down by lack of contrast and pacing. Don't bore your audience with menial or unnecessary details and observations just to weigh a scene down with impact, but be sure to work those Big Moments into the greater tapestry of your tale so that, when they do arrive, they actually do mean something and don't seem forced. You have so many other considerations, this should rarely prove problematic.

A work consisting of nothing but one great scene after another is either a collection of vignettes or a cheesy piece of shit, but it's not going to be a good work.

© C Harris Lynn, 2010

Sorry for the absence, but as I'm sure I mentioned (I mentioned everywhere else is not here, anyway), I had a major surgery earlier this month. That and the holidays kept me away.

I am still recovering, but I wanted to wish everyone a happy New Year and hope your writing is going well. Truly the best advice I can give is the best I received: read as much as you write, and write a lot.

© C Harris Lynn, 2010

I'm sorry things haven't been busier lately, but between the holidays and my upcoming surgery, I simply haven't had the time to get all writerly lately. I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and y'all have big plans for New Year's Eve! Be safe and enjoy yourselves and we'll be back soon!

© C Harris Lynn, 2009

An "Ex-Toledoan" returned a library book 60 years after it was due. Napolean, a biography by Emil Ludwig, was checked-out six decades ago and returned recently with an anonymous letter of remorse, which said the book had been removed from the library in 1949 without being checked-out and that "Carrying guilt for 60 years is a terrible thing."

© C Harris Lynn, 2009

One of the things I love most about what I do is that I have to read - really; it's a job requirement! Of course, the problem with reading is that I don't get to actively work, which leads others to think I'm not working, including myself! That pressure to constantly be doing something keeps me from reading for enjoyment as much as I'd like.

When I am reading as part and parcel of what I do, I do it "right" - I take notes, I stop and look-up words I don't know or am unsure of in their context, I pursue "suggested" reading, and so on. I am actively reading: reading with a purpose. I am actively studying - whether I am studying the work I am reading, or reading it as part of my study.

While both types of reading are crucial to good writing, casual reading should be just that: reading without higher aspirations. You may be reading with a "keen eye" (a mixed metaphor I love) - that is, you might be reading to see how an author handles dialogue or to experience the genre or subject matter - but you really shouldn't be taking notes or deconstructing the material.

In fact, casual reading is essential to good writing and something many writers "forget" to do once they start writing professionally. You can tell it, too! It's obvious when a writer has stopped reading for fun; their writing becomes more forced, more "correct," and loses a lot of its spark. If you find yourself in this position, you may have to take steps to "relearn" how to read for pleasure. You have to read for pleasure if you want to write well.

Because of the breadth and depth of the projects in which I am involved and the fact that I work from home, I simply cannot read casually at home. So, whenever I have to be out of the house for extended periods (usually doctors' appointments, in my case), I leave the "work" literature behind and bring something to enjoy. And - to make sure I read it expressly for that purpose - I double-check everything I'm carrying to ensure I have no pencil with me. I always take a pen (checks, documents, etc.), but I'm nowhere near as likely to write in a book with pen, so it's usually safe. However, if I know I'll be tempted, I make sure I have no scrap paper either - that way, I can't even take notes in pen!

I've since learned ways to enjoy casual reading at home, but it can be a chore. If you can, a room set aside for that purpose is a good idea, though a reading "nook" can be made in almost any room - all you need is a chair and a lamp! Be sure to remove all vestiges of work from the area. Even if you are not tempted to work while you should be reading, just looking at work-related materials can distract you from your task. And your task is to read - for no other reason!

Reading is just as important to writers as actually writing, yet it's something far too few of us do regularly. While I may read a Harry Potter book only because I've never read one (true story), I already know I'm "reading with an eye" toward how Rowling crafts scenes and handles dialogue, and consider it an example of YA fiction. I also know that, as a writer, there's little I can do to curb that; I've trained myself to maintain a creative distance specifically so I can recognize these writerly things and that's not only important to my job as a writer, it's one of those things you can't "unlearn."

However, a little gentle reminding here and there - making sure there's no pencil at-hand when I want to crib a note, reading in the bedroom where there are no computers or stacks of reference works - forces me to relax these instincts and, if it's any good, the material should eventually sweep me into its world so that I'm not always cognizant of the fact that the author cleverly used foreshadowing to heighten tension, or employed onomatopoeia to avoid description which could have reduced that tension, et.al.

© C Harris Lynn, 2009