After sight, hearing is arguably the second most important sense to most of us. Humans mostly use seeing and hearing to interact with their surroundings. And so, sounds in literature can be powerful in conveying meanings – particularly those subtle and symbolic.
But, as with every aspect of writing that is important, there is significant depth below the surface.
To talk about “sounds in literature” isn’t about a one-line advice in the direction of “remember to describe the weather” – sorry Ernest; I never liked your writing.
In other words, in this post I won’t tell you “remember to describe sounds in your book” – let alone how to do it. Instead, I’ll become a bit more abstract and show you why sounds in literature can be powerful and useful, and how they affect your readers.
This is a bit special, unusual post, squeezed in-between the regular flow of Home for Fiction posts. It’s basically an email reply I sent to a Narrative Nods user in regard to my response to a review.
This surely sounds a bit complicated (and perhaps the headline a bit overwhelming), so here’s a very brief background.
Some time ago, I decided to stop working on offering updates for Narrative Nods – for reasons you’ll see below. I also don’t feel motivated to work on the rest of my apps. This became apparent to users after I left the following response to a review on Google Play:
[…]Frankly, I think you might be quite right. This app is rather pointless, certainly not as engaging as a fruit tapping game or a selfie camera app. I’m considering removing it from the Store or, at the very least, never bother with it ever again. There’s more important things out there. Cheers!
This was understandably misinterpreted as sarcastic, so I had to offer another response:
Thanks for the support, but you might’ve (understandably) misunderstood me. I wasn’t being sarcastic in that response. I actually believed—still do—that the app isn’t as useful as I’d initially thought. Its main flaw is that it needs users to put in the work, and not everyone is mature enough for that (that’s what the ‘fruit tapping’ part implied).
This, again inevitably, was misunderstood further. Google Play allows only 350 characters in a given review – or “review” – or response, which makes it impossible to properly express what’s going on. A user emailed me and asked me not to be hostile and feel hurt by negative feedback.
Today’s post is a chance for me to extend my response to a more general audience. The purpose is for other users of my Android apps to have a proper explanation about the situation, as well as for others to catch a glimpse of the dynamics involved. Great teaching material regarding digital misunderstanding, among other things.
Controlling the narrative pace is an aspect of writing that most authors aspire to learn. However, it’s also a fairly misunderstood concept. To learn how to control the narrative pace you must know three things: how, when, and – most importantly – why.
First of all, a quick definition: The narrative pace (or narrative pacing) of a story refers to the speed at which the author offers the story. Obviously, this isn’t linked to the speed at which the events of the story occur.
Indeed, as we’ll see in this post, the discrepancy between the two is a key component. The difference between these two – speed of narrative versus speed of plot – is integral in figuring out how to control the narrative pace.