Repeat After Me
Week four of re-reading Steering the Craft (Le Guin) has brought us to the topic of repetition, so let’s get into this short and sweet chapter!
One of the first things Le Guin points out is something she’s drawn attention to in previous chapters: teachers and other voices of authority have strict rules they want people to follow when it comes to different writing elements. There are rules about grammar, how many sentences form a complete paragraph, and, in this chapter’s case, whether or not you can repeat the same word on the same page.
What’s Le Guin’s consistent response in the face of rules?
Well, she says to know them, use them as tools for your craft, and don’t get hung up too much on their perfectly proper execution. She’s not an anarchist; she’s not directing us to abandon all structure and formal guidelines. She does, however, lean in the direction of artistic license, which is how she views repetition and patterns in prose.
Now, this takes into consideration small scale and big scale repetition. Meaning, we’re looking at word usage as well as themes and beats of an overall plot. Because it’s not just about whether or not I used the same word multiple times in the span of a few pages. It can also be about an event or behavior that kicks off the narrative and that returns in some way in the end. She thinks of it as events that echo one another (40).
When it comes to the small scale, to the word-by-word analysis, Le Guin doesn’t encourage us to run to the thesaurus at every turn simply because you’ve been told you absolutely need variety in vocabulary. She says that “the thesaurus is invaluable when your mind goes blank on the word you need or when you really must vary the word choice” (36). Ultimately, though, it needs to be a strategic tool used with discretion. Throwing in too many synonyms too close together can sound stilted and odd.
At the same time, “repetition is awkward when it happens too often,” so balance and keen attention to what your words and sentences are doing is a must (37). You want to avoid sounding childish (unless, of course, your POV is a child), yet you want to lean into how repetition may lend itself to giving your sentences rhythm. Le Guin is big on rhythm because that’s what gives your sentences momentum, and, as we learned in a previous chapter, sentences need to move to keep the story going.
If you’re not sure you quite see how prose has rhythm or utilizes repetition, keep in mind this point Le Guin makes: “The rhythms of prose—and repetition is the central means of achieving rhythm—are usually hidden or obscure” (37). Poetry, in opposition, can sometimes hit us over the head with patterns in vocab or rhyme, but prose is not meant to. The art of subtlety is crucial, and it’s what helps to give shape to your story on a grander scale.
If you’re repeating the same word, phrase, or type of plot event, you’re giving that thing emphasized meaning. You’re using it to communicate to readers there’s a certain weightiness attached to it, and they should pay attention. Or sometimes the weight becomes apparent after the metaphorical shoe drops and readers can look back and piece together the pattern you’ve been laying out for them. Either way, whether readers pick up on the pattern as they go or with the help of hindsight, meaning is conveyed. You may often find that repetition and foreshadowing go hand-in-hand.
Le Guin refers to Jane Eyre (Brontë) as a great example of this structural repetition. Right away in the introduction and first chapter of that book you’re introduced to themes and images that will return later on when Jane’s a grown woman at Thornfield Hall.
Two other examples she uses are “The Thunder Badger” tale from W. L. Marsden’s Northern Paiute Language of Oregon, which is a folktale that was traditionally passed along orally so has a very distinct need for repetition; and the other is Little Dorrit by Charles Dickens, which features the usage of the same word over and over again for the purpose of communicating mood and setting (38-39). Both of these examples, though, don’t quite fit the idea of using repetition in a hidden or obscure way, so bear that in mind, if you take a peek at them.
What you want to be thinking about in regards to your own writing and how you’re implementing repetitions is this: effectiveness. Maybe there are points in your story where you really lay the patterns on thick. Maybe that works at that point in the plot. And maybe there are more times when you pull back a little, when you lean into the subtlety.
It can be tricky to know on your own if you’re striking the right balance because, as the author of your story, you know what’s coming, right? So, you could plant some foreshadowing through a pattern that seems very obvious to you, but to someone not in-the-know it might be too vague. Sharing your writing with someone can be a very nerve-wracking thing, but I encourage you to do so so you can receive feedback on things like this. You don’t have to share your prose with the whole, wide world, but, if you have a willing and trusted reader, that’s an incredible thing to take advantage of.
It’s all right to be nervous about sharing your work, but you can be nervous and brave. Perhaps you could give it a try with something low-stakes to begin with. Maybe, just maybe, that low-stakes piece of writing could be one of your responses to Exercise Four Le Guin has for us.
EXERCISE FOUR: AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN
Part One: Verbal Repetition — Write a paragraph of narrative (150 words) that includes at least three repetitions of a noun, a verb, or adjective (a noticeable word, not an invisible one like was, said, did).
Part Two: Structural Repetition — Write a short narrative (350-1,000 words) in which something is said or done and then something is said or done that echoes or repeats it, perhaps in a different context, or by different people, or on a different scale. This can be a complete story, if you like, or a fragment of narrative.
As always, keep in mind the guidelines she has for us as we participate in her exercises:
1. You get 30 minutes to write. No more than that. She suggests setting a timer, getting focused, and getting it done. The quickness of it all is meant to keep you from over-deliberating or carrying on too long.
2. Don’t worry about having a finished product by the end of those 30 minutes. The point of these exercises is to practice, not to whip up your next fully-formed short story.
3. Give yourself time before critiquing or editing what you’ve written. Le Guin suggests not looking at your exercise piece until a day later, at the earliest. Only after there’s been some space should you look at it with revision and editing in mind.
And, if you’re feeling brave and want to share what you’ve written with someone, you can always reach out to me. I’d be more than happy to chat about the writing exercises we’re doing and how they’re going for you.
With that, happy writing, friend, and I’ll catch ya next time for Chapter Five!