Managing the white space...

HALLIE EPHRON: I know what writing is about. Evoking images. Expressing voice. Mining the sense. Words are our tools... right?

And yet I often find myself paying attention to white space.

Where to put a paragraph break (carriage return), sometimes just to give the reader a break so the page doesn’t seem dense and impenetrable. Or where to place a scene break (double carriage return) where the point of view or the time or the setting changes.

Readers glide over the middle of paragraphs and sentences; they land hard on beginnings and endings. So I also think about where to put key information.

If it’s a red herring that I’m planting, I might put it in the middle of a paragraph. Deliberately making it harder to spot. But if it’s an important and I want the reader to notice, then I make sure it’s at the start or the end of a paragraph.

If it’s more than that, something which dramatically changes the emotional valance (for instance, the narrator’s suddenly feels afraid or wary), I might put it on a line all by itself.

That’s when she noticed. Water dripped from the ceiling.

Do you think about managing the white space in your novels?

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: What a great topic, Hallie!

It’s true, I think a lot about white space, along with paragraph and sentence length. It’s all part of creating a reader experience that feels as if its actually happening in real life, and to make them forget that everything - emotions, environment, people - are only words on a page (or a screen, to be modern.)

I use many of the same techniques you do, and I love, love, love the single solitary sentence for emphasis.

I started a chapter in one of my books with a single swear word. The last sentence of the previous chapter had Russ stepping into a woodchuck hole and falling backward, with an audible “snap” of his tibia. Then the reader turns the page and sees:

“F—!”

One of the few times my mom didn’t ding me for using the F word in a manuscript!

LUCY BURDETTE: I’m always in awe of the way you break things down, Hallie. That’s what makes you such a good teacher.

My management of space seems to be much more intuitive, which makes sense since I don’t think about beats and acts and outlines either. Though I do bury clues and red herrings, as you suggested, and also open and close with important information.

One thing I’ve gotten better at I think is ending chapters with something that I hope will urge a reader forward. Not crazy, hanging hooks, but little bits that should make someone want to read another chapter. Here’s an example from the end of chapter two in A CLUE IN THE CRUMBS:

“We were wondering,” Miss Gloria said, “whether you’d whisk us on a little tour of Old Town before dessert? Maybe we could even drive by the scene of the fire?”
All three faces looked so wistful and hopeful, I couldn’t say no. Besides, I was curious too.

HALLIE: I call that a “hook-and-grab structure” - where the ending of one scene (or chapter) provides a hook that gets grabbed by the opening of the next scene (or chapter). 

You see it all the time in movies. A telephone rings and the scene fades to black; the next scene opens with someone (somewhere else) answering a phone. A scene ends with a door closing/next one opens with a door opening. 

It’s so obvious when you start to notice.

HANK PHILLIPPI RYAN: Yup, all of this. How the book looks is so pivotal, and it's a way for the author to give the reader a roadmap to the emotion and suspense of the book. Pacing. And also a bit of misdirection. 

Yes, exactly, the ol’ list trick, where the key is in the middle. The forest for the trees, right? We were being totally fair–but we made you look the other way. The author used… sleight of words.

Chapter endings, too, where the pause is built in. How do we get the reader to turn the page, and what will be going on in that white space in the readers’ brains? It should be different, depending. Hook and grab, absolutely. Or...a moral question or philosophy. Or quiet foreshadowing.

For instance: END of Chapter 5

“I hope you won’t be mad,” Bree finally said. She curled her fingers around the stem of her wineglass. “I have a confession to make.”

Beginning of Chapter 6

“Confession?” Alyssa stepped back from the center island, caught herself looking at the shiny knives stabbed into the wooden rack on the drainboard, then, embarrassed, actively didn’t look at the knives. Trapped in a kitchen with a stranger was not the best prescription for good outcomes. She imagined the explanation she’d have to give to the police after whatever horrific thing that was about to happen actually happened. If she were alive to tell it. She could imagine the headlines. Idiotic suburban housewife invites . . .

END of Chapter 6

The refrigerator motor kicked in, its hum seeming louder than usual, and the red light from the alarm system blinked reassuringly from the panel on the wall. Alyssa stared out into the night, and watched a wide-winged moth flutter into one of the outside security lights, frantic and needy and throwing itself into the irresistible and lethal brightness.

RHYS BOWEN: This topic took me by surprise as this is something I’ve never thought about. Now I’ve got one more thing to obsess over!

I am only aware when I’ve had my heroine Molly being introspective for too long and I see a big block of text on the page that needs breaking up. 

I am aware also that today’s reader is used to TV with 90 seconds before the scene changes. I don’t write like that but I am aware of the need for pace and switching from dialogue to description to action to make sure the reader is being kept engaged. 

But mostly I just write and then go back to tweak if necessary. If I’m writing an exciting moment I plunge ahead then go over it again to fill in details of setting etc.

I do try to end chapters on a line that provides suspense or makes the reader think.

JENN McKINLAY: Oh, dear. I’m with Rhys. I have never thought about the white space – not once, not ever. And now it’s all I’ll be thinking about. Thanks, Hallie!!! LOL. 

I think it’s just one of those things where I let my instincts take over. If I want to emphasize a line I do. If I’m hiding a clue, I bury it in an action packed scene. I personally find large blocks of text daunting, so I don’t write them.

Fascinating topic. I love reading everyone’s answers!

DEBORAH CROMBIE: Hallie, this is so interesting. I do all of these things, but I never thought of it as "white space." I just want to keep things moving, and as much as I like long sentences, I know that if you put too many of them together it's hard for a reader to stay focused. But too many short choppy sentences is annoying, so it's all about balance.

And I always use the "hook-and-grab" in my scenes, but I had no idea that was what it was called. A lot of this seems to be instinctive–I just know when I have to cut the action or the dialogue in order to keep the tension up and keep the reader wanting to turn the pages.

HALLIE: So, for you as a reader, do you notice the white space? Does it bother you when a page is one big block of text? Do you notice chapter endings that make you want to go on to start reading the next chapter??