ARE EXPOSITORY LUMPS CLOGGING YOUR STORY?
By Kirby Larson
Did you know that until about 1910, before bridges and train tubes, the only way to get to the Big Apple from most of the continental United States was via ferry? I didn’t either until I was digging around in history for my latest work-in-progress. Duh, Kirby: Manhattan ISLAND! (Never pick me for your team if geography is involved).
Captivated by this notion, I mulled over old photos of the ferries, and the dashingly suited men and glorious hatted women riding them.
My imagination had a field day. Just think of chugging across the North River (now Hudson River), all the while watching the Hoboken Terminal loom larger and larger into view.
I was so taken with this notion that, the next thing I knew, I wrote a ferry scene in my WIP (work in progress). I even tapped into all the five senses! Gosh, it was fun.
Until Story tapped me on the shoulder, rubbing its head. “Excuse me,” it said. “I was traipsing along my arc at a pretty good clip and suddenly I crashed into this.” Story pointed at an inky block of text. The ferry section. “Do you know where in the heck it came from?”
I blushed, shrugged. “I might have an idea how it got there,” I said.
“You put there?” Story asked, rubbing a goose egg on its forehead. “Right in my way?”
“But it’s fascinating,” I said. “Think about it: People couldn’t reach one of the biggest cities in the world without crossing a river!”
“And?” Story pressed.
“Well, think of the color. The smell of the river. The chug of the ferry engine. The grime of the coal powered steam engines.” I tried not to sound too defensive. “It’s part of history. Facts are good.”
“Okay. Sure. I’ll grant you that.” Story nodded. “Maybe I should’ve seen it coming. It’s not like this is the first time something like this has happened when you’re writing. But, to be perfectly honest, I’m having a hard time figuring out how this whole ferry scenario fits in.”
I stared at the keyboard, pondering my reply. I glanced back up at the monitor and re-read the ferry scene. Story was right. Simply because this fact about ferry travel to New York City was fascinating, it wasn’t fair of me to shoehorn it in. To put it right in Story’s way. “Can I leave it, just for a while longer?” I asked. I cringed at how whiny my voice sounded. “Maybe I can find a way to work it in so you won’t even know it’s there. This is only a first draft. Let me see what I can do.”
Long-suffering Story sighed. “I guess I don’t have any choice,” Story said. “Could you do me one favor though?”
“Anything.”
“I could really use an aspirin.” Story rubbed its head again. “And maybe a helmet. I know how you are with those fascinating facts.”
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Kirby Larson
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