When
we talk about writing naked, we’re not discussing another sequel to 50 Shades of Grey.
Or erotic literature.
Or if you’re old enough, that
magazine section in the corner store where only adults were allowed to browse.
Writing naked is all about risk.
Risk
is a broad term when applied to writing and writers, and takes on many
forms. But writing naked involves going
to the hard places, especially when it relates to the mystery and thriller
categories. The best kind of writing in
those genres – the kind that is moving and compelling, and stays with us long
after we’ve finished reading that last page and closed the book – is the kind
that lets it all hang out and pushes past our comfort zones. It’s writing that
takes creative risks, changes the narrative structure, voice, or uses
characters to tap into emotions and make hard-hitting social commentary. Honesty.
Bleeding on each page and baring emotions without compromising
integrity.
All writers carry a fear of failure. Writing is one of those professions filled
with the competing voices of self-doubt and critics who believe they can write
just as well if not better than you. The
same critics who expect to see blood, sweat, and angst seeping from every page.
Perhaps the worst thing a mystery or thriller reader can say about something
you’ve written is that it’s “too predictable”, or that they’ve “seen this
before.” That’s the kind of criticism
that cuts with a serrated edge. Risk is
the thing that can keep writing fresh and unpredictable, but more importantly,
allow you to write with impact. Taking
risks is how writers become better. Taking
on risk starts the moment you sit down to write. You can’t start off trying to write a book
that will appeal to everyone.
Agreeableness is boring. If you
water down your writing to suit everyone’s tastes, you’ll never find the power
of your own voice.
I
didn’t write Still Black Remains for
any particular audience or demographic, which might explain why it was
initially difficult to find the right publisher – there might have been more options
if I had chosen a genre like YA or NA with a more specific group of
readers. I wrote Still Black Remains because it was a story I wanted - needed - to tell, even if no one wanted
to read it. It started out as a simple
crime story but once I pushed past my own comfort zone it evolved into
something more. The central theme in the book is about
the struggle of a different generation trying to realize the American Dream against all odds, and
through any means possible. The
characters have learned that hard work by itself will never help them achieve
what they want - they have to work outside the system to get what they want. The inner city landscape where they
live is filled with desperation, anger, and a sense of futility and in many
cases violence is both the solution to problems and the result of
problems. Actions – no matter what’s involved
or who gets hurt – are justified as being “part of the game.”
If I tried shaping the book towards
a particular audience or played it safe, I might have been tempted to change
the voice, minimize some of the violence, or sanitize the language. It is a gritty story. Life in the New Jersey neighborhood where
Still Black Remains takes place is equally gritty, violent, and harsh. There was no way to soften the writing
without losing the legitimacy of the story.
It was a risky path to take because
readers might be offended, but it was absolutely necessary to tap into the
characters’ emotions and maintain the authenticity of the story.
There was no other way to write it.
As a writer you need to strip away
the fears and worries that might hold back your story. You need to go out on a limb to write with
impact. You need to write naked. Write without fear. If you don’t push your limits your writing
won’t take off, and more importantly, it won’t matter to readers.