Tag Archive | novel writing

Anatomy of A Novel: Part 13: Making the Reader Care

I’ve always enjoyed reading. From as far back as I can remember, reading was my escape. An escape from being an asthmatic child who coughed too much to run with the energetic children in my neighbourhood. An escape from classroom bullies. An escape from a world that sometimes wasn’t as much fun as the world depicted in the books I read.

In high school and university I became a more inquisitive reader, wanting to know more about things like travel and history, but still a lover of fiction. I analysed the set works of literature and the dramatic arts to get my degree. In my early years of being a drama stage manager, I was still fascinated by characters and their motivations as I worked alongside actors and directors in the rehearsal room, watching and listening to them unpicking the complications of the characters and the relationships they portrayed.

However, it’s only in recent years – since I became a writer – that I’ve started to analyse all of the above in terms of what makes a book interesting enough to keep reading it. As always, the answer inevitably comes from the books I love to read.

For example, I have just finished reading an incredibly exciting book by a successful best-selling author. This is her second novel. I really enjoyed her first, which I read about two years ago. However, I almost didn’t make it through this second novel, and I’ve been trying to work out why.

Before I start, I should mention that both are stand-alone novels, not connected to each other in any way – no sequels or prequels; each one is a single story on its own.

Her first novel was written in the first person, voiced by three characters, all of whom intrigued me enough that I felt compelled to follow and see where these three very different women led me. By the time it became evident – not far into the novel – that the main narrator was an unreliable narrator due to her alcohol addiction, I already liked her and wanted to see what she was up to. I cared. Despite her forgetfulness and the fact that she couldn’t be trusted, I still wanted to follow her to the end.

The second novel was written from several points of view – some in first person, some in third. Too many points of view, I felt. At first I couldn’t keep track of who was who, and by the time I’d sorted out and managed to tell the difference between some of the more confusingly similar characters, I was almost halfway through the book and I still didn’t really care about any of them. At the start of most chapters I had to page back through the book to remind myself who this particular person was. Reading a little bit each night before bedtime (which is the way I read most books), didn’t help with continuity.

The main difference between these two books was that, in the first book, I cared about the main character. I was also intrigued by the other two and wanted to know what happened to them.

In the second book, I didn’t care about the characters. I had no emotional investment in any of them. In fact, the only characters I even vaguely liked were an outsider policewoman (whom I had muddled with a second policewoman several times during the first half of the novel) and a young boy. Both of these characters were peripheral to the plot for the first half of the story. I felt sorry for the boy because his family had become dysfunctional after the death of his sister, and I had high hopes that the policewoman would solve the mystery surrounding the various deaths, but apart from that, I didn’t care enough to want to follow all the other unlikeable characters to see how they sorted out the mess the whole village was in.

The only reason I carried on reading the second book was because I had enjoyed the author’s first book so much. I knew that she was a really good writer, and that she was sure to deliver a fabulous denouement like she had done in her previous novel. I persevered only because I was willing to take the gamble that she would come through eventually.

I also knew that if I stopped reading the book halfway through, I was unlikely to ever go back and attempt to re-read it. Worse, I would probably never bother to read one of her novels again, and that would be a pity.

She did, of course, come through before the end. A suspenseful build-up during which I didn’t know who to trust (after all, I didn’t like any of the suspects, did I?), followed by a nail-biting climax, and capped with a nasty twist on the very last page. I’ll definitely be reading her next book!

But…

What if I hadn’t read her first book? What if she wasn’t famous for delivering the goods? What if she was an unknown writer like me?

This all got me thinking about the most important thing an author can do when writing a novel, particularly if that author is relatively unknown. We can all wax lyrical about constructing a good plot, deep characters, exotic settings and amazing mysteries, but if a reader doesn’t care enough, it all goes down the toilet.

Reading is an emotional experience. Readers want to make a connection; they want to reach out and touch something because it resonates with something deep inside them.

It takes a long time to write a novel, so surely some of that time needs to be spent in making the reader care about the characters?

Advertisements

Secrets of Scrapbooking

I started my first scrapbook in 2008. The previous May, I had spent a fun weekend with the South African Writers Circle (SAWC) on their annual three-day conference. For the first time, I had lost myself in the joy of meeting other writers, listening to guest speakers, entering writing competitions, and even winning two prizes. I was hooked!

After that weekend, I enjoyed monthly meetings and entered more competitions. At the annual awards ceremony the following January, I won the New Writer trophy, and by the time the next three-day conference rolled around in May 2008, I had decided it was time to start keeping a visual record of my writing progress.

My scrapbook advanced slowly but steadily. Each year the SAWC’s annual writing conference was documented in pictures and blurbs from the programme. The pages between celebrated my own success in writing competitions.

In addition, I made a page for each novel I finished – even the unpublished ones like Willowfountain, the story of my family’s settler history.  This was a modest page, with only the gravestones and memorial commemorating the original settlers, but with later pages, I became more adventurous.

I started to enjoy scouring the internet, printing out pictures of the places I wrote about, photos of the actors who I cast as my characters, and images of any interesting artefacts that played a role in the plot. During the writing of a novel, these are arranged across an A1 size whiteboard, but at the end of each novel, what better thing is there to do with these printed images than put them into a scrapbook?

In 2009 I did a university creative writing course and the project on which I worked was based on my own family history. I scanned and printed several photos for my whiteboard. The following year, when that project became a self-published novella, it got a page in the scrapbook as well.

In 2010, three writing friends and I shared messages and emails while we all worked frantically to finish our current novels for entry into a competition run by Penguin SA. None of us made the shortlist, but we won something more precious – we started our own small writing group to share readings and critiques once a month on the novels we were each busy writing. We called our group Writing Buddies.

In 2011, before my sister left the country to live in Australia, she made a scrapbook for her eldest daughter’s 30th birthday, commemorating my niece’s first thirty years. Because time was short, my sister needed assistance so my middle niece and I helped her to compile it. It was fun despite the bittersweet looming of her departure. Those last few days before she flew, we enjoyed several happy bonding sessions, celebrating the milestones in my oldest niece’s life.

My sister’s departure prompted my focus to shift to the wider world. In November 2011, after my third novel had been with Penguin SA for eleven months, I received the most encouraging rejection letter ever, and within two weeks I had self-published that novel on Amazon. Into my scrapbook went another page!

Around the same time I suggested to our Writing Buddies group that we should start a joint blog to get our names “out there” beyond the local confines of both Writing Buddies and the SAWC.

Early in 2012 I took my first holiday to Australia, visiting my sister after she had been in her new country for only six months. A piece I wrote while there had its debut on our new blog, Scribbling Scribes, and in due course the Scribes got a double page in my scrapbook.

A mid-year weekend writing retreat on a friend’s farm got its own page, as did another writing retreat with the same friend early in 2013, during which I completed the first draft of my next novel.

That original scrapbook has now almost doubled in size, but despite not having added a new page for several years, my scrapbooking hands haven’t been idle.

In 2014, while on my second visit to my sister in Australia, I was once again roped in to work on a scrapbook for her middle daughter’s 30th. The older niece had worked on it with her mother during her earlier visit to Australia, and together with my sister and my youngest niece, we completed it. My sister and I took it to New Zealand where my second niece had now moved with her husband, to give to her.

A few months after that, I began the harrowing process of getting myself to Australia, and both my writing and my scrapbooking fell far down my priority list. I still hadn’t done a page for my second novel which had been live on Amazon for almost two years by now, and my final weekend away with the SAWC didn’t get done either. With all my scrapbooking materials pared down and packed in a box, I knew it would be a while before I got around to any of it.

Mid-2015 found me in Australia, living in my sister’s house. A year later I finished and published my third novel, but the scrapbook remained in a box in her garage with all my other treasures for another two years.

A year ago I finally got a permanent job, moved into a cottage and unpacked all my stuff. My youngest niece, now married, was building a house with her husband. Because their house was in the area where my sister lives, and far away from the rental in which my niece and her husband lived at the time, they couldn’t track the progress of their build as often as we could. My sister decided that we should take photographs of every stage of the build and put together a scrapbook for them.

With all my boxes unpacked and loads of photographs finally at hand, I spread all my scrapbooking stuff out on my dining table, where it remained for several months.

What my sister didn’t know was that since June last year, I had already begun compiling a secret scrapbook for her 60th birthday in February this year. As far as she knew, I had started doing a scrapbook of my cats. Yes, my cats. That was the decoy album so that if my sister popped in unexpectedly, hers went into the ottoman. And if my niece dropped by to visit, the pages I was doing for hers likewise went into the ottoman. My sister and I managed to complete the house album for my niece and her husband in time for Christmas last year.

It was exciting putting together my sister’s 60th album. My three nieces and I sourced photos, images from childhood, pictures of family and friends and, mixed with a healthy dollop of love, we crammed it all into a scrapbook.

What my youngest niece didn’t know was that while we were doing her mother’s scrapbook, her mother was doing one for her. My youngest niece’s 30th birthday was coming up in March, and I was helping my sister, together with my other two nieces overseas – one in New Zealand and one in South Africa – to compile a scrapbook for her.

Last month, we presented my sister with her album, and a week later we gave my niece hers. At last we could be open and chat freely after all the months of subterfuge. No more secret scrapbooks!

My dining table is still covered with scrapbooking stuff. I love scrapbooking, and I think it’s time for me to catch up on those last few pages that still need to be done. And then I need to dust off the whiteboard and create some fresh images for the novel I’m currently writing…

Anatomy of A Novel: Part 12: The Benefits of A Break

On this final day of the first month of 2018, I’m happy to announce that I spent part of that month re-acquainting myself with my partially-written novel.

I returned to my WIP on the second day of January, unsure how to approach a project I hadn’t touched since mid-April last year. I knew there were problems with this draft. At just over 50,000 words, I had only written about half of the actual story, so it lacked both pace and progression. I had thrown far too many words into it during the previous November’s NaNoWriMo, but with that long over, how was I to fix things?

After perusing my original synopsis and outline, I decided the best thing to do was to see what I already had and make notes about what worked and what didn’t work. So I began a read-through with minor edits. If something jumped out at me in a bad way and was small enough to tweak, I tweaked. If it needed major surgery, it was highlighted in red on my corresponding outline. I had already started a list of things to fix the previous April, and this list now expanded as I read.

I’ve worked my way through about half of the text so far, working on it when I can, and trying not to leave long gaps between the days on which I tackle it, because I don’t want to lose continuity. I think it’s going well so far, but the truth moment will be when I reach the point at which I stopped last time. I’m hoping that by then I will have enough notes to help me to make the decisions about what to go back and fix before carrying on to complete the full manuscript.

Of course I really want to get the whole thing down, because nothing thrills me more than that moment when I complete a first draft, before the hard slog of transforming it into an actual readable novel begins with the second draft and goes on for however many drafts it takes. However, it’s pointless crashing on through this draft if the first half doesn’t hang together well enough to make a solid foundation for the rest of the story.

What have I learned so far, from doing this?

  • As much as I’m grateful to NaNoWriMo for helping me write over 50,000 words in 30 days, part of me wishes I had taken longer and written less, because it would have made more sense and there wouldn’t be so much to undo now, before moving on.
  • It’s always good to take a break from something which you threw down on the page in a rush of 30 days. Many writers agree that the longer you leave a manuscript to sit before picking it up again, the more likely you will be able to read it with new eyes and see the mistakes with startling clarity. Taking a break gives you a better perspective on how it reads, what it’s all about, and how engaging it might be for readers in the future.
  • Don’t make any rash decisions while reading through. It might sound easy to delete half the text or start over completely, but burying myself in it and surrounding myself with my own words is helping me to find my voice for this piece.
  • This manuscript isn’t as bad as I had feared, and parts of it are definitely going in the right direction. My belief in it has been restored, not undermined. Now I just have to bring the rest of it into line, and then complete it.
  • Don’t rush it. There are areas of historical research that I am really keen to read up on, and this time I won’t be churning out a daily word count at the expense of sacrificing my research time, which was part of the problem back in November 2016.
  • My Dad always used to say, “If something’s worth doing, it’s worth doing properly.” I love the story idea for this novel, and it’s definitely worth doing it properly. I long ago decided that I could never be one of those authors who spews out a new book every few months, or weeks. This one will take as long as it needs to take, it deserves my full attention, and I’m not prepared to compromise on it. I love this book, and I’m going to make it work!

Writers and readers out there – what do you think about the benefits of taking a break and returning to a WIP with new enthusiasm? I highly recommend doing it.

Life is Like A Novel. . . Sometimes

I’ve been doing a fair bit of research into novel structure lately, while trying to get my life on track and back into some kind of routine. However, not much in my life seems to be running according to plan, despite my best intentions. Exasperated, at one point I silently declared that my life was like a bad novel because everything kept going wrong.

And then I realised that this did not denote a bad novel, but an interesting one, full of drama, missed opportunities and plot changes which constantly evolve, thus motivating the characters to do something they might not have intended to do before.

(The only trouble with this plot is that it’s too indistinct and I have no idea where it’s all going to end up before the – I hope! – happy ending. Maybe this is how pantsers work?)

While it can be distressing to have too much drama in one’s actual life, this is the best thing for characters in novels. No one likes to read a novel about a character who has all his ducks in a row and his life perfectly planned, because that’s just too boring to read about. It’s fine to start a novel like this, but within a few pages there needs to be a catalyst that changes everything and throws all his plans into disarray, making him run constantly through the rest of the book, making new plans, troubleshooting, and generally trying to catch his breath before the next onslaught of plot points.

As writers, we have to capture the reader’s interest from the start, and then hold onto it while we fling them along the roller-coaster of the protagonist’s life, making then root and cheer with the highs, commiserate with the lows, and worry about the dangers.

All things considered, my life is not as dramatic and topsy-turvy as the lives I map out for the characters in my novels, but thinking about this did help me to put my own problems in perspective and give me a bit of distance from them.

It also gave me the motivation I needed to start thinking about my current WIP and what I’m going to throw at my characters in the New Year when I finally get time to carry on writing.

What about you? Does your life read like a bad novel? Or like an exciting one?

Anatomy of A Novel: Part 11: Unpacking It

My love of writing has grown from my love of reading, and like many writers, I write the kind of books I would love to read. In my early years of writing, I enjoyed several novels by Bernard Cornwell, and took some valuable writing advice from his website.

To paraphrase, he said that when you want to understand how something is made, you take it apart, and so it is with novels. Pick a novel you love, one that you wish you had written because it resonates deeply with you long after you’ve finished reading it. And then unpack it.

I’m not talking about the way we did back in English literature classes at school or university, but in the way a writer needs to. The story, the structure, the way characters get themselves into situations and why, and how long it takes them to get through the path of obstacles you have created for them.

This is the eleventh in this series of blog-posts about writing a novel, and what I’ve written in the previous ten all have relevance, but this is where the fruits of those come together in a loose mesh which can be tugged, stretched and made to fit by doing some research and a bit of juggling. The best way to analyse your own novel is by comparing it to novels that you wish you had written. What is their secret? How did those authors manage to hit all the right buttons in exactly the right places? Unpack it and see.

I have always loved the movies, and long before I started buying books on writing, I bought books on how movie structure worked. Many of my favourite books on writing are still the ones about screenplay structure, and much of what I now think of as my checklists and story patterns for writing my novels come from reading those books.

I always have: a three-act structure (Screenwriting for the 21st Century by Pat Silver-Lasky); a hero’s journey (The Writer’s Journey by Christopher Vogler); a sequence of sequences (Screenwriting: the Sequence Approach by Paul Joseph Gulino); and a beat sheet (Save the Cat! by Blake Snyder). From these I have, over the years, devised my own basic structure, and now that I’m struggling with the ratios and proportions of my latest novel, it’s Blake Snyder’s beat sheet that I’m using to analyse (and hopefully fix) the problems I’ve encountered.

Following Bernard Cornwell’s advice to new writers, spend some of your precious writing time unpacking three or four novels you’ve loved and wish that you’d written. Try to use works from different authors, all of whom have written in the genre you love to read and are writing in.

Re-read each novel carefully, notebook in hand. Read like a critical writer, not like a loving reader. How long does it take to reach the catalyst or inciting incident? How long does the hero debate before making the decision to take action? At what point do the Bad Guys start to turn even nastier? Is there a significant Midpoint which either foreshadows the outcome or gives the reader the exact mirror-image of what the ending will be? Which scenes are written in full, and which are summarized to move the action along at a faster pace? How long is the third act, or finale?

Knowing the novel because you’ve already read it at least once, pinpoint exactly when and where each tiny slice of foreshadowing takes place. A master craftsman plants various ideas and hints throughout the entire novel, in such a way that the reader sees the fruition of those seeds as being the perfect denouement and not as a nasty, unrelated, out-of-left-field surprise. Master storytellers also weave an undercurrent of tension throughout, which we glimpse at appropriate moments – a ticking clock, a war or revolution taking place in the background, and so on. Make notes on how they do it.

Another thing to make notes about is how subtle the love scenes are. My current favourite love scene is in one of the Amelia Peabody books by Elizabeth Peters: The Falcon at the Portal. It is 60% of the way through the text, and is exactly three sentences long. Because Peters has built the tension so well between the two characters up to that point, she needs only three sentences.

The first is the start of the girl’s run across the room towards him, the second is their moment of meeting halfway, and the third is later when they are curled up together in bed and he wipes away one of her tears of happiness.

Who needs more than that? No one needs more if the path to get there has been planted properly. Satisfaction all round.

Now let’s get to the horrid part of this exercise: the cringe moments when you compare these notes to your own work-in-progress. Take comfort here from the fact that your work is still actually “in progress” and it’s not finished until you’ve finished working on it. Take more comfort from knowing that those famous novels had a team of editors and beta-readers all making suggestions to the author and helping to hone the final product long before you read it.

How far into the novel is your inciting incident? How long does your hero take to make the decision to go on the journey? How wordy and purply is your love scene?

Does your Midpoint actually happen exactly at the 50% mark or does the first half of the novel seem to take forever? (Take heart, people – this is always MY big problem area!) Which scenes need pruning, and which can be reduced to summaries instead of slowing the pace?

Are your moments of foreshadowing clunky brick-on-the-foot moments that give the game away? Go back to your outline and see if you can drop hints in a more subtle, sparing way. You want readers to be pleasantly surprised by the ending, not able to foretell it before they get there. You want them to say afterwards that it all worked out perfectly in the end. Remember that, if the first page sells the novel, the last page sells the next novel…

With the notes you have made of how other authors make their novels work, and with the help of your outline, timeline and character sketches – all of which you made before you started yours – you will be able to find the right places to tweak and twist your work so that it all happens where it should, and in a much more satisfying way.

Anatomy of A Novel: Part 10: Writer’s Block

I don’t generally suffer from writer’s block. I suffer from writer-not-having-enough-time-to-get-it-all-down. Which, I suppose, is a kind of writer’s block in itself because I’m not writing what I want to write at the moment. But that’s another story…

Why don’t I suffer from traditional Writer’s Block? Maybe it’s because I’ve always been one of those writers who carries a notebook.

My notebook isn’t just for those Eureka moments when I dream up an original “what if” idea for a new novel. It’s for all sorts of bits and pieces that land in my brain from out of the blue somewhere. These can be prompted by everyday things I see around me, spurred on by my wild and crazy imagination, or they can be notes-to-self about something that might be fun to research on Google later, or just interesting quotes or book titles I hear.

Not all of my ideas lead to the germination of a new novel. They could just as easily be unrelated dead-ends, or seeds that might later find their way into a novel. They might suggest something else that will land in a current work-in-progress, or in a completely different work. When I’m in the middle of writing a novel, many of the snippets I scribble in my notebook are ideas or thoughts about my current draft. These come to me when I’m nowhere near my laptop.

For the more technologically minded, there is probably a notes app on your phone that most people would use to make a shopping list. I use mine as a second notebook if my handbag is out of reach and my phone is in my pocket, but I’m old-fashioned enough to prefer the action of actually writing in longhand with a pen.

Novels happen when interesting characters go beyond their comfort zones, on strange journeys, and collide with bizarre obstacles, forcing them to act on their natural instincts.

Writers follow the same path. We too must go beyond our comfort zones, on new journeys where we will collide with obstacles we haven’t yet researched, and we will have to use our creative instincts to solve the puzzles. Writers have the advantage over characters because a notebook can help us to decipher and work around the obstacles.

What if you find yourself blocked in spite of a notebook (or phone) full of ideas?

Try changing your time of writing each day. If you habitually write in the morning, try writing late afternoon or at lunchtime instead. Buy a rhyming dictionary and make up some silly poetry, just to stretch your writing brain in a new direction. Enter short story competitions that are worlds away from the type of stuff you usually write. I have penned some truly dire attempts at science fiction, but they helped me to find a path through to other works.

Diversion is a good thing. If nothing else works for you, then take a break from writing and let other interests stimulate your imagination. Do some cooking, gardening, painting or woodwork. Hike up a nearby mountain to smell some flowers and look at the view. Anything that requires physical labour can put your subconscious mind on the back-burner and let it stew out some ideas. Keep that notebook handy just in case…

The thing to remember about writer’s block is that it’s never permanent. It can be worrying, but only if you let it get bigger than it is. Don’t let it do that. Remember that you are bigger than the block in front of you. Of course you will write again, and probably in floods of words, to the point where you will find it hard to believe that you were once so blocked.

If you are thinking of joining NaNoWriMo in November this year, October is the month to get your ideas flowing, draft an outline and give those characters some motivation. Good luck!

Anatomy of A Novel: Part 9: Scene & Summary

Writing a novel can be a long process, and sometimes we writers can’t tell how the pace is going because we are too close to it. As much as I love having an outline from which to work, the important thing to remember is that it is – at best – a flat, two dimensional map of where the novel is going, and what the most important points in the plot are.

What happens when the writing of that plot doesn’t work as well in practice as it does in theory? Sometimes a particular section of my current draft which may have worked well in the outline, doesn’t ring true in the actual writing. If I can’t solve it immediately, I highlight that section on my outline, leave it and move on to the next plot point, which often shows me the way back to solving the previous problem.

If it doesn’t, then maybe the sequence of events is in the wrong order. Some writers do their outline on a series of cards – one scene per card – so the cards can be re-arranged if the order isn’t working. Personally, I don’t like using cards. I find it easier to cut and paste on my outline instead, but if cards work for you, then by all means use them.

Here’s a thought: if something is difficult or boring to write, then maybe it shouldn’t be in the book because it may be boring or difficult to read. It’s that simple: if there’s a boring bit I can’t write, then maybe it’s not meant to be written. Maybe the idea behind that scene or sequence needs to be reworked in another way.

So back I go to my original one-page synopsis and examine where that problem scene fits in the greater story. What happens before it? What happens after it? Is there a better way to get from one point to the next? Remember that every character has a desire, and has to overcome obstacles to get what he or she wants. If the obstacle isn’t big enough then the writer must either raise the stakes and make it big enough to count, or wipe it off the slate and get on with the story.

The writer must choose between scene and summary. Not every step of the story needs to be written as a scene; some can be summarized to move the reader forward to the next interesting bit. Ask yourself: What am I trying to say in this ill-fitting scene? Where is it supposed to lead to? If there is a better way to reveal what’s in it, then why is this scene even in the book?

If a lacklustre scene serves a definite purpose, then that purpose might be better presented in the form of a summary. Perhaps the characters need to go on a journey for a reason, but unless there’s something significant that the reader needs to witness along the way, or if the tension is heightened by the fact that they are being followed, then we don’t need to see every step of the journey, especially if it’s going to hold up the action and bore the reader. Rather end the chapter as the characters leave one place, and start the next chapter as they check into the hotel or arrive in the city where the next bit of action will happen.

While writing Benicio’s Bequest, I had a complicated sequence of events in which my two main characters travelled back and forth across the same section of Italy several times. By highlighting the problem areas in my outline, I was able to rework the sequence with one less travel hop, and turn one of them into a car chase, thus tightening the action and putting them in the right place in time for the final push to the finale.

Most plots need moments of quiet time to let the characters (and the readers) take a breath. In a romance this is often when the characters get to know each other better, but don’t linger there too long. Keep them on their feet and dancing through the plot, because that’s how it stays interesting. Plenty of time for them to get to know each other properly once they’ve saved the world!

It all comes down to a balance between pace and progression. Those writers who advise you to “leave out the boring bits” usually have a good grasp on how to keep an audience engaged. Keep the pace moving, while constantly advancing the plot.

What do you do with those lovingly-crafted scenes that don’t advance the plot, but that you’ve written so well and can’t bear to lose? Here’s my solution: I cut and paste them into a folder called the Dumping File. I tell myself that they are not wasted, and sometimes I even get to use bits of them in another part of the novel. I haven’t killed them, because they’re still there on my computer.

These deleted scenes form part of each novel’s backstory, and my own writing journey. Even though the reader doesn’t need them, I’ve still got them, kept all safe and cosy and protected. The dumping file for each of my novels is quite large – between 15 and 30% of the size of the finished novel – yet every bit of them turned out to be completely unnecessary.

Don’t waste the reader’s time with this unwanted waffle. They won’t thank you for it, and they might decide not to buy your next novel…