The Backpacker’s Inn
The Backpacker’s Inn was part of this Las Vegas world, but only in a superficial sense. The front of the Inn had the appearance of just another stoop on the block, another glass door with bars. But to the hundreds of travelers who passed through its halls each year, the Inn was an oasis of love. Not the kind of love you’re probably thinking, although that too was present. Wanda and her girlfriend were among the Inn’s most infamous lovers. The love that the Inn mostly brought in was a communal love, a wandering, vagabond love. Though disguised by the drab surroundings of the lower West side, the Inn flourished based on this principle of collective kindness and anonymity.
The Inn was run by a bunch of European and Australian kids in their early twenties. Suffice it to say they got jobs managing the youth hostel after staying there so long. For the Backpacker’s Inn was a sort of Hotel California, a place where guests checked in, helped out, and forgot about everything else. The Inn had its own privileged, self-contained existence apart from the seedy district that engulfed it. If you could find it, then you were protected by the faux-paradise enclosure. In fact, the European staffers frequently advised guests not to walk down the street “even for a pack of cigarettes.” All the necessary provisions were stored in the bar area, cigarettes, juice, and alcohol. What else did one need? And for those who came to see the Strip, there was a taxi service that left on request. Strangely, however, most of the guests stayed put at the Inn. They were satisfied by the oasis. The seclusion, the privacy, the atmosphere of mindless leisure, produced an effect much like a hard-to-find prescription narcotic.
The walls of the Backpacker’s Inn were painted in bright, trailing rainbows or soft, bold crayon-like colors. The interior recalled a Latin American mural or an elementary school hallway. The lobby had checkered tiles and surfing posters on the walls. A member of the staff usually sat at the checkout desk in a bikini. Tanned, toned, and self-consciously attractive, the staffers conferred with each other in intimate whispers. Off duty, they retreated into heavily curtained rooms resembling dens of lustfulness and inequity. But nothing went on of any significance. Occasionally, a snooping guest peered into a staff room to find a bunch of Raman noodle cups, a heap of dirty clothes, and the walls decorated liberally with tie-dyed tapestries.
nomananisland said,
May 7, 2008 at 5:34 pm
So far, I really like your ability to describe, and your ability to create a tone. I can actually feel like this place is really close-off, intimate but dirty, and the walls cry out with stories.
Please take my comments with a grain of salt: I’m not a published author or editor. However, I do believe in the value of online fiction, the power of the creative mind, and the magic of online communal support. I’ve learned some things the hard way from multiple people, and I’m commenting in the same spirit they did: learning from experience to help someone else, and pass it on.
In that spirit: you are telling a story. It is far better to show the story. An example is Tracy: Three years ago he was living on the streets. This is “telling” — we don’t get to see him on the streets, nor understand what it was like. It’s just an authorial statement. A chapter showing us Tracy living like that would be much more interesting.
However, my own personal perspective: sometimes it is necessary to tell instead of show. A lot of writers are devotees of The Holy Altar of Showing, and will mock all telling when they see it. It is impossible to always show. It is wasteful to always show. Most readers don’t notice showing or telling, they notice story and character. Showing is often better writing, but it is not always necessary. If Tracy is a minor character of little importance, you’ve told us enough about him. A long chapter about his life on the street wouldn’t be important, unless it’s important to the overall plot.
The trick is, balancing between showing and telling. I’m totally making this up, but a good ratio is probably 3:1 — for every chapter, page, paragraph or sentence that tells, there should be three that show. Your only “showing” sentence about Tracy is “Tracy laid out by the pool with his shirt off.” That’s an image. That’s solid.
lethebashar said,
May 7, 2008 at 5:39 pm
Thank you. In this chapter I’m giving an exposition. The first couple chapters are creating the foundation that in subsequent chapters I will build on with action, character, and drama. Do you still think I should change the first chapter to include dialogue? I’m very interested in what you think. You’re already helping me a lot.
nomananisland said,
May 7, 2008 at 6:36 pm
These are just tips garnered from web-publishing No Man an Island since October. I had a lot of people comment on the beginning of my story, which I am always trying to improve.
But basically, this is what I’ve learned from their comments:
Online fiction readers want to be interested NOW. An actual book, most people give about five chapters. But that’s a paper book, with a beginning and an ending, that you can pick up or put down. Online, it’s a faster paced world. If you can’t get a new reader’s attention NOW you’re not going to get it at all. The FIRST chapter has to be interesting. The second, third, fifth, whatever, can build the world, and they’ll put up with exposition. But they have to have something to be interested in right away, or they’re not coming back for chapter two.
Exposition is not action, dialogue, or character. It is not plot. It is simply detail. Online readers usually want a character to focus on and relate to, and action and dialogue happening to them. I learned this the hard way, because my favourite chapter to start my book featured eight characters, and everyone complained that it was too many, no matter how interesting the chapter itself was.
By the way, it still features that many characters, I’m still figuring out the best approach. But I know for a fact that the multiple characters made it confusing for readers. I’m lucky that I have a core group of maybe 100 that come back daily (unless I have 300 who come back every three days, to make it look like 100 each day) because they were patient enough to get past the first chapters and find that the rest are really good.
But if I was smart, like Alexandra Erin on Tales of MU, my first chapter would introduce one major character, and be interesting right away, and get people coming back for more. Last I checked with her, she gets 10 000 people a day.
lethebashar said,
May 7, 2008 at 6:40 pm
Excellent advise. Okay then, one last question. What chapter would you start this novel out with?
nomananisland said,
May 7, 2008 at 6:56 pm
It might take some revising, but the chapter of Lethe arriving on the bus, probably. It’s an introduction of character, which is more important than an introduction of scenery.