Creating Depth
I spend a lot of time pondering the depths, not the depths of the oceans or the depths of space but the depths of stories. As an editor, I’m often sent stories that are working well. They have a glint of originality. They have a journey from A to B. But they aren’t quite singing as they might. When I put my own stories in a drawer and revisit them after a several months, I often find the same thing. They are slightly see-through, slightly thin.
In my previous newsletter, I proposed a theory that a story is like a triangle then contradicted myself right at the end to suggest that maybe a triangle is too flat an analogy. To create something with resonance, we need a three-dimensional comparison – perhaps a prism. That’s where depth comes in. In most stories, we want the scene and the characters to have a realness to them, inviting a reader to stare into our story-worlds like they would stare at a painting, looking to discover what lurks beneath the surface layer.
I think that comparison to a painting is a useful one. I’m not the greatest artist in the world but I do dabble in arty type things from time to time. My process for any new artwork starts with finding or taking pictures which might serve as inspiration. I then make sketches. I then outline what I want on the page. Then come the first tentative colours, building through several layers. In the colouring stage, I might go back and make more sketches. I might try out colour combinations on a scrap of paper before I commit them to the thing I’m actually trying to bring to life.
And the reason I’ve rambled on about my art is because there’s a similarity to how we might craft a story. Obviously, everyone’s process is different, but I doubt that many of the most resonant stories (the ones that stick in your mind) were conceived in a single eureka moment. Instead, I imagine they arrived in stages much like my artwork. The first draft might compare with my sketch. Then a firmer draft might work in terms of a reader seeing the story, understanding the emotional stakes. But it is only in adding additional layers or sketching ideas away from the canvas that the writer finds those depths that take a good story and turn it into a sparkling one.
Knowing situation and plot
Below is the painting “The Starry Night” by Vincent Van Gogh. In my Glorious Words course, we look at the symbolism inside this painting, but it strikes me that it is also an interesting painting to consider in terms of depth. What is happening inside the buildings? What might we see if we could look beyond the edges of the canvas? What would we see behind us? Who is the person observing this scene?
When it comes to creating depth in stories, I find it helpful to come up with answers to those sorts of questions, to decide that the people in the houses are circus entertainers and they have to be up early in the morning for training before a show, that there is a wagon parked beyond the edges of the canvas laden with pumpkins, that the person observing the scene is a fortune teller. These details might not make it into the story, but in knowing the answers, we can start to find those hidden depths.
Another question pair I often ask myself is ‘What comes before?’ / ‘What comes after?’ Again, the answers to these questions may or may not make it onto the page, but in knowing that the fortune teller has spent the last twenty-three nights in this exact same spot or that tomorrow he or she will eat a ham and cheese croissant, you will have a much wider sense of the story.
Knowing character and relationships
Continuing on with my story about the fortune teller observing the starry night, ‘what is their motivation in this scene?’ This is hopefully a question that is familiar to you. Most stories work on the principle that our characters want something, but to dig deeper into that motivation – ‘why do they want that?’ I also tend to think of motivation in terms of levels of want – the surface layer is their present motivation, but ‘what motivates them more generally in life?’ and ‘what has led to them having that motivation?’
Perhaps another way of framing those questions is ‘what are their hopes and dreams?’ And on the flip side of that, ‘what are their burdens?’ As with all my plotty / scenario questions above, the answers to these questions might not make it onto the page; it is simply about us, as writers, having a deep sense of who our characters are and what makes them tick. And not just the main character but all of the side characters as well. I feel as though we should always know more than the people who populate our stories. We are omniscient even if our characters / narrator are not.
That leads us nicely to relationships. In most stories, we want the relationship between characters to be clear on the page, but what are the depths to that? Perhaps I’ll introduce an assistant to my fortune-teller story, but ‘How did the characters meet?’ ‘What is the touchstone moment that defines the way they act towards each other?’ ‘How has their relationship changed over time?’ ‘How are they different around each other to how they are around other people?’ ‘Why are they different around each other?’
Hopefully, what is emerging here is that creating depth (at least how I think about it) comes from asking yourself lots of questions. It also, I think, emerges from specificity. ‘What kind of shoes are your characters wearing?’ ‘Why have they chosen those shoes?’ Let’s say my fortune teller / assistant combination are having a midnight picnic. ‘What foods have they packed in their picnic?’ ‘Why have they chosen these things?’ ‘How would you describe how they eat?’ ‘Why do they eat like that?’
Of course, when we talk about resonance, really we are talking about emotions, and again, this is something which I feel we can deepen through specificity. Telling ourselves a character is sad gives us a certain depth to play around with but knowing that the assistant is feeling sullen hones in a lot more on exactly where they are in that spectrum of emotions.
(PS – if you want a handy resource for pinpointing emotions, I’ve got a freebie on my website here)
Knowing themes and hidden truth
With my starry night story, it feels as though there is an obvious theme which could be woven throughout – how can I use the imagery of stars? Since the main character is a fortune teller is there also a chance to do something interesting with ways of predicting the future or with the tools of a fortune teller’s trade? For me, one way of creating depth is in the language we use. When using similes, when thinking about how you are going to describe the world, can you tie your language to a particular theme or the unique perspective of your narrator?
Finally, I come to that idea of a hidden truth. This ultimately is what really makes a story resonate well beyond the page. ‘What are you as a writer trying to tell your reader?’ In my starry night story, is it that ultimately none of us can know the future? Is it that we are tiny and insignificant in the face of the universe? Is it that we need to stop gazing upwards and see the wonders in the world around us? Often I find that the hidden truth might be a proverb or a saying, or it might be some wisdom that we have come to understand along the journey of writing the piece.
Check-list of questions for creating depth
What is happening beyond the edges of the canvas?
Who is our narrator? Why are they telling this story?
What comes before this scene?
What comes after this scene?
What are the motivations of the characters in this particular scene? Why?
What are the characters’ dreams?
What are their burdens?
How did the characters meet?
What is it that defines their relationship?
What are the rich specificities of these characters’ lives?
Why have they made the choices they’ve made?
What is the specific emotion they are feeling?
How might situation, plot and character affect the language of the story?
What are the thematic threads?
What is the hidden truth beneath the narrative?
Pulling it all together
Most stories will only push in certain directions in creating depth but one story which, for me, achieves multiple levels of depth across plot, character and language is Chicago (Kathy Fish | Wigleaf). Notice the way the plot extends outwards through time and space after the initial set-up. Notice the way the psyche of the various characters is explored through asking those key questions of ‘what?’ and ‘why?’ along with the specificity of things like “Pink Catawba rosé” and “Orange crush.” In terms of identifying a hidden truth, how about “the grass is always greener on the other side”?
And using that story as a springboard, let’s finish with a prompt.
Create a small scene where your narrator witnesses something odd in the behaviour of another character
Ask yourself ‘why’ the other character acts in that way, delving through all those questions on motivations and dreams
Deepen your understanding of the scenario by considering the relationship between the two characters – how are they connected? How did they meet? What has previously defined their relationship? How might this oddity change things?
Consider the layers of your narrator’s life – what are their dreams and burdens? How does that affect their reaction to the present scene?
Peer beyond the edges of your canvas. What is going on nearby? What would the narrator see if they were to leave their body and look back on him or herself?
Think about the hidden truth beneath your narrative – what is the idea you are wanting to explore?
Hopefully, that’s something to ponder. I’d love to hear your thoughts on finding the depths beneath a story as well as how you get on with my story prompt. As always, please give me a wave in the comments.
And finally…
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Matt Kendrick as usual goes way beyond the usual craft essay. There is more depth, more smarts, and more style here than just about anywhere. I was especially struck by the focus on motives of characters. We speculate and mull on the motives of actual people all the time (spouses, kids, celebrity-strangers). Surely it is just as natural to uncover the motives of our fictional people… because, after all, we want them to see him real.
Hi. Only signed up recently but finding your newsletters informative, interesting and entertaining. Very grateful for the downloads you offer on your site and also the questions to ask yourself in order to create depth. I will try to promote you through the Bournemouth Writing Festival website.