SEEDLINGS by Aaron Paul Lazar

August 2009

Squeezing Poetry into Your Novel

For those of you who'd like to write a novel, or who already have, let's specifically talk about poetry.

Poetry? How does that fit in a novel?

I'm talking about short descriptive passages that capture those lush images branded in your brain the last time you glanced out your car window and sighed at the beauty around you.

You've had moments like those, right? Even if you live in the middle of the city, there must be visions that thrill you. Like a brave cornflower poking out of a crack in the sidewalk, or the way the lights sparkle at night in the oily puddles, or the majesty of an old brick house whose character lasted for centuries.

Descriptions of these scenes may be used to slow down the action, to paint the scene, or to simply delight your readers. And it's okay to include some poetry like this smack dab in the middle of your book. Really, it is. Anyway, who cares about what the rule books or the stuffy experts say? I say, write from your heart and with your intuition, and worry about genre and rules later. Okay, so I'm a bit of a rebel. Maybe that's why I'm not a NYTimes bestseller. Yet. (Grin.)

Sometimes I think these poetic little gems turn a plain old mystery into a "literary mystery." But let's not delve into genre right now, or what distinguishes one mystery from another. Maybe that's a topic for another day.

Regarding "poetic passages cleverly inserted in a great book," I've noticed such examples in books by Dean Koontz over the last few years - especially in the Odd Thomas series. Whenever I come across these astounding lovely nuggets, I smile and savor them. Gifts, that's what they are. Pure and simple. Patricia Fowler is a master at this. Her writing is pure art and yet, so real and approachable. If you don't know her yet, check out her pieces here.

When I write my LeGarde Mysteries and Moore Mysteries, a similar thing happens. It's not a conscious thing, not at all. It just pours out of me when I picture Gus LeGarde standing in his gardens, or hiking through the rolling hills. And because the beauty of the Genesee Valley here in Upstate NY astounds me on a daily basis, it's a great opportunity to capture and share it. With you. With my readers. And with those who may someday read my books. Like my grandchildren.

Most of my "poetic" passages come from visions I'm blessed with just driving to work or walking on the Genesee Valley Greenway. Or even in my own gardens. This heady, bucolic environment breathes life into me, inspires me to no end. And often -as some of you know--I get to capture the scenes with photos.
Here's one I took yesterday, but the image has been ingrained in my head for years. I wrote the following segment in the fifth LeGarde Mystery, FIRESONG: AN UNHOLY GRAVE. (It's in my publisher’s hands as I write this.)

In this scene, Gus has just passed an area of the tornado-ravaged countryside and is driving home to check on his family.

"Beyond the perimeter of the damage, the late June wheat crop stood intact, ready for harvest. Heavy-headed stalks waved in the breeze, producing undulating patterns in the great expanses along the roadside. A hint of green whispered beneath the golden-pink surf that rippled over the fields."

I'm not saying that's the best writing in the world. I'm sure I could hack it up over and over again to tighten it further. But it's an example of what I mean by inserting poetry into your prose.

Want to practice some poetic writing? Imagine a scene where your character takes a breath, or pauses to reflect, or simply plops down on a rock in the woods. Write anything that makes you smile.

Here are a few photos to inspire you. Let your imagine fly, dear writers...

Purple clematis

Foggy morning on the lake

On the board walk

Purple Campanula, or chimney flowers. 

Send me your pieces at aaron.lazar@yahoo.com if you love to weave words, and remember to write like the wind!

Gordie and Papa
The boys took these photos of us - they're getting to be good little photographers, aren't they?

Julian and Papa