Using Fiction Technique in Nonfiction

On the surface, nonfiction writing might appear to be much easier than fiction writing. With fiction, the writer has to create a distinct world, characters, atmosphere, and plot, engaging in cerebral “heavy lifting” to tell a tale. Nonfiction (in some quarters) is mostly seen as compiling facts, data, information, and the occasional direct quote. If you didn’t know better, you would swear that it took no effort to create a nonfiction piece.

But writing nonfiction can be as creatively engaging as fiction, and I have the experience to prove it. I have written newspaper editorial columns, zine pieces, pop culture essays (published in such fine collections as Rising Son Reruns and When the Shadow Sees the Sun), and even academic pieces for the DePaul Pop Culture Conference. Spoiler: writing nonfiction isn’t “easier” than writing fiction, but you can find fiction-writing techniques scattered throughout various nonfiction works.

First, consider your “main character” of the work. Whether you’re writing a biography, an oral history, or a narrative of an event, there is always a protagonist (or group of protagonists), antagonists, and a general sense of conflict. Highlighting those protagonists and their efforts, and finding a naturally occuring arc, can provide a sense of that the overall “story” is about. Harvard University professor Yunte Huang integrates themes around assimilation and Chinese-American culture into his work. Two of his books focus on specific individuals: the first, Charlie Chan: The Untold Story of the Honorable Detective and His Rendezvous with American History, not only focuses on the fictional character but also his creator, Earl Der Biggers, and how the character has impacted American culture. It also integrates Chang Apana, the Hawaiian detective who may or may not have influenced the creation of Chan, and provides insight into the relationship between a cultural assimilator and the assimilated. His latest work, Daughter of the Dragon, focuses on Chinese-American actress Anna Mae Wong‘s career and her efforts to integrate aspects of her culture into her acting and other professional efforts.  In my essay for ATB Publishing’s Outside In Regenerates, I used the fictional character of the Monk to generate insights into the Doctor Who story “The Time Meddler.”

Another technique is developing a unique atmosphere around your nonfiction subject through selected perspectives. Fiction handles this through descriptive prose and dialogue, establishing a sense of “world building” that engages the reader to dive more deeply into the subject. Two Marx Brothers-related works achieve such an atmosphere: one through engaging in a similar tone to their movies, the other through stark differentiation. Roy Blount Jr’s Hail, Hail, Euphoria!: Presenting the Marx Brothers in Duck Soup, the Greatest War Movie Ever Made provides a pitch-perfect match of scene-by-scene commentary and insight into their 1933 film that fosters both readability and strong narrative. In contrast, Robert J. Bader’s Zeppo: The Reluctant Marx Brother provides a down-to-earth examination of the youngest Marx Brother (and the one who seemingly has less of a reputation). Bader provides a historical and emotional context that provides a much-needed source of humanity and relatability to an individual who opted to wander back into relative obscurity. 

(In my Rising Suns Reruns essay “Family Bonding Through Kaiju Fighting”, I started discussing the obscure tokusatsu show The Space Giants by describing the media landscape during my childhood…but framed it through my experience. It provided the proper historical context while generating empathy and identification for the reader. After all, many of us have rushed home from school to watch our favorite shows, but very few want to have a scholarly discussion of analog UHF/VHF broadcasting…)

One final fiction technique that works well in nonfiction is adopting a casual narrative tone. Like fiction, nonfiction strives to develop a unique voice that engages the reader. Although creating an atmosphere is critical in writing nonfiction, that atmosphere will not work if the writer takes a Jack Webb-style just-the-facts-ma’am approach. Finding the right approach to discussing a subject can differentiate between a piece read repeatedly for reference and a one-shot read that informs but doesn’t last. David Maurer’s The Big Con was initially written in the 1930s as a then-contemporary linguistic exploration of “con men” culture, but grew in prominence to eventually influence such television series as Mission: Impossible and Leverage through its descriptive and engaging insights into the workings of the confidence game. Another great example comes from Patrick McCray, writer of The Dark Shadows Daybook and The Dark Shadows Daybook Unbound. His essays about the gothic soap opera Dark Shadows take a casual yet insightful look at particular episodes of the series, integrating McCray’s experiences in theater with an extensive knowledge of the series’ storylines. 

(And I’m not just a reader – I’m a close, personal friend)

Writing engaging fiction is a challenge. Writing nonfiction also has challenges, but using fiction techniques can make it easier and your work more engaging.

(Visit the author's website.)

Slicing the Pie: Art. Craft. Technique. Style.

Hey, writer types! For the next (next-next, actually) roundtable, let's talk about art, craft, technique, and style. For some these four words may be synonyms. For others, they may be different ways of slicing the same pie. For still others, they may have start differences between them. If you're familiar with my basic interview questions, you'll remember this one: "Where would you rank writing on the "Is it an art or it is a science continuum?" Let's all discuss that together, shall we?

What does art, craft, technique, and style mean to you? 

Paul Landri: Writing is absolutely an art. However much like cooking, if you don't have a technique for the dish, you'll find people spitting out your food into their napkins or feeding it to the dog.

I don't think I have a particular style, but if you read my work you'll see the influence of the old Del Rey Star Wars Novels are pervasive throughout my books. I cut my teeth on those books when I was in the 7th grade and that style of writing comes out a lot even after all these years and countless other novels I've read that have influenced my writing.

I'm very conversational in tone, as I am sure you can read here. I find it allows the reader ease of access. I feel like you can be verbose but only as long as your still engaging the reader and drawing them in.

Sheela Chattopadhyay: I would rank writing as both an art and a science, rather than keeping the continuum as a straight line. It's more of a circle with each moment of writing blending both art and science together in different proportions as needed. This is from my experience in other types of writing and communications over the years in different disciplines.

Bobby Nash: Art is the part that comes out of me naturally, I think. It’s the raw, creative part. Craft is the work. I work on getting better at my craft. Technique is how I handle the craft. These are the tricks and learned odds 'n ends. Style is how I merge art, craft, and technique.

Or I could be completely wrong. This is honestly the most thought I’ve put into these definitions ever.

Ef Deal: Dead honest here: I don't really know how to address the question so far as distinctions. I will say that craft deals with structure. Art deals with the methods you use to evoke a mood: the use of language and poetic devices, for example. Style has a lot to do with your own voice as you select your words. I have no idea how to define technique in this sense. Does it mean one's approach to crafting a story? Plotter or Pantser? No clue.

Everything Old Is New Again -- Reviving Old-School Literary Tropes and Techniques for Contemporary Fiction

There are so many literary conventions that have fallen out of use -- or at least out of favor -- in modern fiction. You hear it all the time: Don't use infodumps, show don't tell, no page after page of description, don't jump heads, no omniscient narrators, etc.

With that in mind, there's only one question for this new writers roundtable...

What is your favorite of the old conventions or tropes to revisit, and how do you use it effectively for contemporary readers?

Amanda Niehaus-Hard: I think genre writers have been steadily incorporating more literary techniques into their writing, but instead of thinking of these things in academic terms, they’re often referred to as “easter eggs.” Allusion and parallelism in themes are there, but they aren’t called out as such.

One of the literary techniques that I miss in genre fiction is the omniscient narrator. What’s in favor right now is that very close limited point-of-view, where you’re plugged into the brain and sensory system of one character, and this can be extremely effective, especially in horror. This technique fell out of favor years ago, (even inside literary fiction) but YA authors are bringing it back, in a way, in the voice of a ghost narrator.  There’s a lot you can do with omniscience – especially in a longer work. Ellen Gilchrist is a contemporary literary author using the omniscient narrator to provide commentary on the story, even entering the story as a character herself. It’s a powerful tool that I’d like to see the genre community experiment with. 

Another technique that is not only out of favor, but often warned against by editors, is the use of multiple points-of-view (derisively called “head-hopping” in the romance community.) Now it’s true this is a technique that can get out of hand quickly, so authors are usually encouraged to limit point-of-view to alternating sections or chapters, or for shorter works alternating paragraphs. Virginia Woolf was the master of “head hopping,” so authors who want to experiment with this should look at how she handled it. I see it being much more effective in some genres than others. (In horror, sometimes the dread and sense of isolation can be enhanced by staying firmly inside the head of one character. With a larger fantasy series, being entirely in one mind can become tedious for the reader. Even books in the Harry Potter series play with this – pulling away from Harry’s direct experience as the series goes on, to give the reader an overall picture of the very-real problems both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds are about to confront.)

I do wish genre writers would consider what they could accomplish if they were as precise with language as some varieties of literary fiction authors. One aspect of lit fic (some would say the only important aspect) is the sound of the language, the rhythms of the sentences. Ray Bradbury was a genius at finding language that actually sounds like the thing he’s writing about. (Remember the scene in “Something Wicked This Way Comes” where the mirrors are breaking? Those sentences, read aloud, actually sound like breaking glass. It’s amazing.) Genre writers would be well-advised to pay as much attention to the pacing of the sentence as they do the pacing of the unfolding plot. Borrow and steal from poetry techniques, from Gertrude Stein. Borrow and steal from the language of Ulysses, of Borges and Calvino. 

Literary writers pride themselves on breaking with tradition, and I’d like to see more genre writers attempt the same. Ursula LeGuin was a proponent of breaking literary “rules” inside imaginative fiction. She encouraged writers of all stripes to overturn conventional ideas about “story,” even questioning the advice to build a story on “conflict.” Literary writers very often will craft short fiction that doesn’t follow Freitag’s pyramid or Aristotle’s Poetics. The story might end just before or just at the moment of the “crisis.” We might never see falling action or any kind of resolution. Try mapping LeGuin’s famous story “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas,” on that pyramid. That story reads more like a sonnet, with a two-line turn at the end rather than an actual conflict/crisis/resolution structure.  Last month I read two different independent works advertised as short story collections, but that were really more like novels in fragments – a literary technique that I hadn’t seen in genre fiction. This excited me to no end. I’m seeing a lot more experimentation inside YA, where the phrase “novel in verse” isn’t looked on with suspicion but with delight. I would love to see genre writers experiment with structure and form the way literary authors do. Of course that’s a huge risk. The experiment might pay off or it might fail miserably. Ultimately your “art” still has to communicate enough to the reader to make the process of reading it worth their time. I imagine that for every story she places in The New Yorker, even Joyce Carol Oates has one or two that never see publication, and that’s okay.

Ultimately, fiction supplies us with an enormous tool box of techniques and devices we can use, and I don’t think we should necessarily limit ourselves to what’s in fashion today, or even what’s considered “the law” today. Tell a good story, use whatever methods you need to in order to do so, and don’t let how we currently view fiction limit how you see it. 


Rob Cerio: The infodump can still be done well, when presented in the proper literary device. One of the reasons I admire Douglas Adams so much is his use of the narrative tool of the hitchikers guide entries to do the infodumpingin the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.

Perry Constantine: I like omniscient narration, but it’s really tough to get right. I’ve done it myself on occassion, though I can’t say for sure if it’s been effective.

Gordon Dymowski: When I'm writing, I actively try to avoid obvious tropes. After all, part of storytelling should be as much in subverting the obvious direction as it is in straightforward storytelling. But there are two tropes that I think have been overused...and that I try to openly integrate into my storytelling in clever ways.

One is the Inevitable Corruption of The Hero. You know the drill -- the hero has a gun on the villain. The villain says "Kill me." The hero drops the gun and says, "If I kill you, I'm no better than you."

Not every hero is ethically pure, and I like the idea of temptation...but the whole I-won't-kill-you cliche is overplayed. But planting some smaller incidents of moral question help flesh out the hero's limits. After all, having the big twist doesn't make sense without some examples of how the hero can go wrong. Another (which I'm integrating into one of my current projects) is to suggest that the hero may cross that line...but less out of moral certainty and more out of their own self-destructive or morally righteous behavior.

(Note - I'm not spoiling anything; these are storytelling choices. Your mileage may vary).

The other is the ever-popular Romantic Triangle. Or to quote the J. Geils Band: "You love her, but she loves him/And he loves somebody else, you just can't win..."

Whether you grew up with 1980s romantic comedies...or even more popular current fare, you know how much this gets overplayed. And the approach, which leads to the "Stalking for Love" trope....just won't cut it with a modern audience.

Part of the way try to subvert this in my writing? Make sure that it's a triangle that has a healthier resolution. Perhaps one of the characters in the main couple realizes that their feelings aren't as strong. Or that the pursuer ends up finding strength through a strong friendship with the person that they desire. (Or even that the pursuer finds their feelings stem from some other inadequacy). It's also easy to fall into the lazy trope of having the pursuer...well, "keep tabs" on their desired one. It's much more interesting to focus on the internal struggle of someone who has feelings for someone but also has to acknowledge that the person does not share that feeling. Or even discuss such a relationship in a different historical context to create a unique set of dynamics.

Example: one of my current projects involved women in the 19th century. Extended friendships which involve hand-holding, some physical affection, and emotional intimacy led to strong relationships between women. So much so that the concept of a "Boston marriage" arose - this is a state where two women live together like a married couple normally would. (And given the historical context, this wasn't seen as problematic or "bad". It just was.) Having someone infatuated with a woman in a "Boston marriage" would give it added texture...and making the person infatuated a third woman might even give it more poignancy and grace.

But from a storytelling perspective, it would make it worth it, because sometimes subverting and reshaping well worn cliches provides for more effective storytelling options.

Bill Craig: Flashbacks are good places for exposition and infodumps.

Richard Laswell: I'm a fan of very detailed descriptions. Tolkien would not have been nearly as popular if his world was a vague shadow in the background. I'll likely get in trouble here but witness the difference between Lord of the Rings and Chronicles of Narnia. I fully admit the Narnia books are vivid and entertaining, but more in an action thriller way than the rich sprawling tapestry of Middle Earth.

Michael Woods: I like the omniscient narrators. I like to tell some of my stories as if they are being told by a bard entertaining folk in a tavern or traveling show. Other times I like to be highly descriptive of the details. Never blend the two though. It makes for boring reads.

PJ Lozito: What I'm working on now revives the old saw of challenging the reader to guess the identity of a masked vigilante from a pool of possibles.

Nuggets #78 -- Hiding the Writer

With any kind of writing technique, I prefer the one that interferes 

with the story the least, and draws a little attention to the writer 

as possible to pull readers out of the adventure itself.