Published in 1965, Dwight V. Swain’s “Techniques of the Selling Writer,” some feel, is a bit outdated. Written before the ubiquitous word processor, Google, and AI gives the book some age; however, after reading the book once and studying through it a second time, I think the book has good information. It is still in print, which speaks about the book’s endurance. The book has information for a freshman writer, like myself, or a senior writer. I’ll be studying through the book again and presenting some of my observations.
Dwight Swain (1915-1992) began his writing career in the 1930s. From publishing short stories, his writing evolved to include mysteries, westerns, and action-adventure stories. He was also a screenwriter.
Swain taught in the Professional Writing Program at the University of Oklahoma, where he oversaw the development of student writers. Students in the program submitted writing assignments. From these submissions, Swain drew many illustrations used to support his points in his nonfiction books about writing, such as Techniques of the Selling Writer, the focus of this discussion.
Chapter 3
Plain Facts About Feelings
At the beginning chapter three, Swain says that writers communicate with words, but they should communicate feelings, because feelings motivate people to action. As complex as expressing feelings in words is, he says that applying the skill becomes easy and natural as breathing by following nine steps.
1, You decide what’s good and what’s bad
First, the author must define the good and bad with specific instances and provide some criteria, which he calls a “yardstick.” A thing in itself must be good or bad as it’s significant to some particular person. Value judgments are highly personal, so the individual is the yardstick for measuring good and bad. An individual responds to facts, states of affairs, with feelings, interpretations of those facts. He behaves; he reacts.
2. You give your reader a character for a compass
Second, a writer motivates a reader’s feelings by making him “feel” about the focal character. Give the reader a stake in what happens to the focal character. Events in the character’s life must translate into feelings.
A story about things or events, Swain argues, is not fiction unless it focuses on someone’s feelings, emotions, impulses, dreams, drives, or inner conflicts. Enter, therefore, the focal character whose role is to provide continuity, meaning, and feeling. The focal character links events to a cohesive whole, a prevailing continuity. The effect of an event on the focal character gives meaning. The observation of his reaction to these events creates feelings. The writer’s goal is to merge the feeling of the reader with those of the focal character.
Swain points out that the focal character and the viewpoint character are not always the same. A focal character, however, ties the story together.
3. You create the story world
Third, the three key points to creating a story world are to place the reader there, make it a sensory world, and make it a subjective world. Assuming the reader may not be familiar with the “story world,” the author must bring it before the reader’s eyes in full color. The story world comes to life sensually through the touch, taste, smell, hearing, sight, view images, and impactful speech. And this world will be subjective, the focal character’s world.
4. You inject an element of change
Fourth, a story world is a story of change—internal and external change. In the story world, someone does something; the world changes. Change is vital—there’s no story if there’s no change. But change must impact the focal character. External, visible change produces internal change.
5. You draw motive power from cause and effect
Fifth, change, external and internal change rests upon cause and effect. The author presents a fact, and the reader expects an effect, often unconsciously. The world, though, is rarely that simple. Often, causes are the result of a confluence of seemingly disconnected events. Causes are also complex. Failure may lead one character to resign himself, but failure may sweeten another’s character, leading him to buck up with resolve.
6. You pin down development to motivation and reaction
Sixth, Swain argues that cause and effect lead to motivation and reaction. Anything outside the focal character to which he reacts is a stimulus. Anything the focal character does in consequence of a motivating stimulus may come from any source—the sight of blood, the smell of gunpowder, a kiss, the smell of a clean body, etc. A reaction, an effect, moves the story forward.
7. You make motivation-reaction units shape emotion
Seventh, the writer should make motivation-reaction units shape emotion. A focal character receives a sad note—a motivating stimulus. The note changes his state of affairs—a change. He resolves to a particular line of behavior—an overt, observable, reaction.
In constructing motivation-reaction units, Swain argues, an author should follow a recognizable order—motivating stimulus, character reaction—feeling, action, speech. As he lists the steps, motivation always precedes reaction.
Action, Swain says, breaks down into three components. First, feeling, which is different than thought. Second, feeling leads to action; thought does not always lead to action. Third, speech is overt action. While all three action components—feeling, action, speech—do not have to follow in lock-step, leaving out one or two of the reaction components frequently may confuse the reader, may limit the time between motivation and reaction, and may make it difficult to decide to what degree motivation-reaction events stand alone.
8. You make motivation-reaction units shape emotions
Eighth, measuring copy length with tension, Swain argues, can be advanced by proportion. Each segment should be written to fit, to fit feelings, and feelings are measured with an emotional clock. As opposed to a chronological clock, emotional time is relative, subjective, and based on feelings. So, in fiction, emotions are manipulated by proportion. Tension can be translated into space. The more tense a situation for a focal character, the more words a writer gives it—a matter of proportion. More words, more space, should be given to places where the focal character’s state of mind changes.
With proportion, Swain says, few things are more important. Overplay tension by length or words, or underplay it, or ignore it, and the story will fail to satisfy.
9. You learn to write M-R units
Ninth, learning to write M-R units. Swain says one can learn to write motivation-reaction units by (1) writing a sentence without the focal character. The focal character should not appear anyplace in the sentence, either by noun or pronoun. Then, (2) follow that sentence with a sentence describing the reaction of the focal character. While some extra sentences may sharpen the text, there are virtues to the one-sentence rule—extra verbiage may blur the reaction or confuse the focal issue.
While some disparage the M-R unit, writers recognize it as a tool, an infinitely valuable tool, which should be practiced until the skill becomes automatic and intuitive. How does one accomplish such mastery? Swain recommends writing in a manner that comes easiest, then edit to check that each reaction is motivated; that each motivating stimulus gets a reaction; “and check that ineptitude in the use of language has not in any way confused the issue.” (p. 82)
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