Blogger: Wendy Lawton
Novelists have learned much from photographers and filmmakers over the years. Today I want to focus on the technique of using the appropriate camera angle. We are going to explore what can be accomplished by intentionally focusing the camera of our storytelling– an important element in fiction craft.
We’ve learned a lot about camera angle since the advent of Facebook and even more, Pinterest. We watch our social media friends continually refining their picture taking style. It used to be that the bulk of photos taken were the wide angle variety. You saw a bunch of small people against a bunch of background. The photo showed the subjects in context.
As our media have become increasingly visual, we’ve learned the power of the close-up. The image of a pair of grubby high tops on chubby toddler legs elicits emotion. No shot of the face, the playground, the child. . . our eyes were intentionally focused on only one aspect. Think of the photos that have touched us–a midsection-only shot of a bride and groom holding tight to each other. The gnarled hands of an octogenarian. The back view of a dog and a child. There’s no context in any of these shots– only the close-up.
We’ve also learned that a close-up can allow us to see exquisite detail in tiny things. The other day my walking partner leaned over and snapped a picture of a weed by our trail. I hadn’t even noticed the tiny blossoms that looked like miniature wisteria blooms but her photo magnified them and allowed me to see exquisite beauty I might have missed. Same with my own garden. I’ll often zoom in and take a close-up of the patch that is perfect-at-the-moment, in full bloom. My Facebook friends ooh and ahh but I feel a little guilty for not giving context– like the weeds that have crept into the border.
So what does this have to do with our fiction storytelling? Let’s look at a few things:
- When you are writing, you are the one holding the camera so to speak. You need to decide which details rate the close-up and which need the wide angle.
- The use of wide angle in storytelling was never so expertly used as in the opening of the movie, Forrest Gump. A feather floats over the town so that we’re given a bird’s eye view of the entire scope of the story-world until it drifts down and settles on one Forrest Gump. Brilliant. From context to close up.
- Being a mystery buff I’m even more aware of camera angle. If I’m watching a good British mystery, say, and the camera pans the room but settles for a second on the pocket of an apron, I know there’s something in that pocket that is going to provide a key clue to solving the mystery. The storyteller has subtly given us an unspoken clue.
- It’s the same with a book. If you name a character and describe that character then he or she had better figure in the plot. Once you move in for the close-up, we pay attention. If you are a suspense write and we hear a footfall, there had better be an intruder.
- And if you are giving us a context shot, each detail needs to tell us something about the character or the setting in which he has developed. For instance, remember The Odd Couple— Felix and Oscar? Their individual environments gave us the context for their characters and, in that case, the conflict that formed the basis of the plot.
A skillful writer manipulates the reader’s focus, not letting a single detail go to waste.
But let’s hear from you. What examples, both good and bad do you have for us? How have you used camera angle to draw the reader’s attention? Do you ever describe something just for the joy of describing, with no intention of any of the detail figuring into the plot or telling us something about the character or setting? Is that a mistake?
TWEETABLES:
Fiction craft: Watch your camera angle when you are writing. Close-up or context? Click to Tweet
Fiction craft: How to skillfully manipulate your readers with the click of a lens. Click to Tweet
shelli littleton
Wendy, I love your posts. As I’m editing my work, I’m going to pay much closer attention to this. I’ve always loved taking photos, so this really helps. And I love an SLR camera. I finally got one! But I love that photo software today allows you to focus in on an object, as well, and blurs the rest.
You know, I do name a character toward the end of my work … he injures one of my main characters. And I describe him a bit. Then there is no more mention of him. There is mention of the injury but not the character. I’ll be thinking about that … I might need to wrap things up better.
Jennifer Zarifeh Major
Injury…wrap things up better? Hmmm, I had an image of a mummy pop into my brain. 😉
shelli littleton
You almost made me fall out of my chair! That is too funny! I never thought of that!! 🙂 She actually does get a body part wrapped up at one point!!
Wendy Lawton
It’s hard to decide. Sometimes people just walk onstage and we refer to them through the POV character’s eyes. A man in a Yankees baseball cap brushed by her.
But when you reread, you’ll know. A wonderful example of skillful use of the “camera” in fiction is Sarah Thomas’ Miracle in a Dry Season. Her novella ebook is free right now on Amazon so you can oder it and in the back read the first three chapters of this book. Watch how her descriptions never stray from moving the plot forward or revealing something about the character. Here’s the link:
http://www.amazon.com/Appalachian-Serenade-Novella-Blessings-ebook/dp/B00KQS1DJ8/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1401881845&sr=8-3&keywords=appalachi
shelli littleton
Thank you, Wendy!
Sarah Thomas
Man–thanks Wendy!
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
What a great topic! I hope there will be a lot of comments.
One of the most interesting examples of the ‘camera angle’ aspect of storytelling is found in “Saving Private Ryan’. It speaks to craft, and also to cultural necessity.
The main part of the story opens with the Omaha Beach landings, in one of the most brutal combat scenes ever filmed, in keeping with what really happened at Omaha. The action takes place in a tightly constrained ‘shooting gallery’ of narrow beach on which the German guns were ranged and preregistered.
And yet…
The public perception of the ‘Omaha Beach Experience’ is one of unalloyed savagery, and that’s true for the most part, but there were
significant areas of beach, and significant numbers of Allied troops, that didn’t see that level of carnage. But for the story, the context chosen had to reflect the emblematic ‘vision’. (Also, the beach was much wider, in regard to the distance that had to be crossed between disembarking the landing craft and reaching the comparative safety of the bluffs.)
Thus, context was both specifically chosen, and altered for visual effect and character development.
The film also used foreshadowing, in that the token Jewish soldier was given a Hitler Youth dagger as a souvenier after taking a strongpoint behind Omaha Beach, and was later killed with it when he tried to use it on a German soldier.
It’s kind of clumsy, and added a degree of artifice to a story that generally flows pretty well.
I personally don’t hold with foreshadowing. I learned the technique, and went through the documentation of countless examples in writing classes. In the end, I found it irritating; it distanced the story from real life by making everything fit into a framework of predestination – one that was not subtle enough to be Divine.
One technique that I think can add to a story is using description that turns setting and objects into characters. William Friedkin’s film “Sorcerer” does this brilliantly. (It’s an excellent remake of “The Wages of Fear”, about four no-hopers driving nitroglycerin-laden trucks through the jungle to put out an oil fire.)
Here’s a video, with some of the salient points –
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aTrNtrIQVdo
Some things to notice –
The living and powerfully malevolent nature of the fire.
The ‘expressions’ of the trucks (named Lazaro and Sorcerer; Sorcerer is the one with the teeth).
The ‘dodgy bridge’ scene – the bridge is viciously alive, and the truck Sorcerer is desperately trying to get across, with human help. Look again at the truck’s “face”, and the “breath” of the exhaust.
Jim Lupis
You’re right, Andrew. Fantastic camera work! It reminds me of my drive to work every morning:)
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
You gave me a good laugh for the morning, Jim!
Jennifer Zarifeh Major
That was some serious stunt driving over that bridge!
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
Making the film was apparently quite an experience for everyone involved, and they did drop a few trucks into the river.
Wendy Lawton
Wow, andrew. Superb example. (Talk about using the “ticking clock” in fiction.) And yes, excellent use of anthropomorphic characters.
I’d love to take a writing class from you– you always bring up new ways to look at a thing.
I have to disagree with you about foreshadowing, however. I really like skillful foreshadowing.
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
Wow, Wendy, you just made my day!
I think that foreshadowing hit its zenith in Dickens’ works, though Hardy makes good use of it as well. My feeling is that their novels were written, and read for rather a different purpose than those we read today. They were much more morality play/social commentary, and were intended to forge thought and opinion. (Books were largely read by those who had some access to power – they were expensive, and literacy rates were low.)
In that setting, the use of foreshadowing is very fitting, because the storyline links back, at least in analogy, to the social, economic, and political processes of the day – one wants to ‘read the signs’.
Fitzgerald managed some effective foreshadowing in “Gatsby”, but many of the writers of the following decades used it clumsily (Ruark) or not at all (Wouk).
My feeling is that to be effective, foreshadowing has to be precisely defined in its function – it has to not only give a hint of impending action, but also tie into the thematic structure of the book, and into its place in ‘history’, so to speak.
Jenni Brummett
Foreshadowing, when it is done well, makes me want to read the book again so I can pinpoint the Aha moments.
Andrew, I completely agree with your comment about how foreshadowing must tie in to the thematic structure of the story.
Jim Lupis
Wonderful post, Wendy. I have a scene in my WIP that pans the room as a family listens to a Hitler speech on the radio, in 1933 Germany. After reading your post, I realized that I needed to “zoom” in.
It changes the scene and adds an intensity that was missing. Thank you.
Wendy Lawton
With a scene like this you could do so much to make us see all that will be lost, playing calm and home fires against the horror unfolding. And by seeing what your characters are doing, we’ll learn even more about them. Example: Mother stops ironing and scorches father’s shirt without realizing it. . .
Oops, that might be foreshadowing. 😉
Susan Mathis
Great input! Thanks, Wendy.
Wendy Lawton
You are welcome.
Meghan Carver
Whatever is named or described needs to figure into the plot. Definitely true, Wendy! Few things lose me faster in a book or with a new author than paragraphs or pages spent on persons, events, or objects that don’t factor into the overall plot. When my children find a new book or series at the library, I typically preview them. Just yesterday, I skimmed one of the historical fiction I Survived… books from Scholastic. It’s an interesting concept, telling the story of an event in history from the perspective of a middle-grade child who was there. But this one spent several pages detailing a neighbor child’s fascination with a wild boar. It seemed a little odd in the story and, in the end, didn’t have anything to do with the historical event. Maybe it was supposed to convey more about the setting or maybe the little boy, but I couldn’t see the relevance to the bombing of Pearl Harbor.
Thank you for the list of tips!
Wendy Lawton
One of my pet peeves as well. Historical writers, especially, need to be okay with leaving much of their hard won detail out of the book. We writers get fascinated by research and want to work it all in. Big mistake. It must serve the story or out it goes.
Jenni Brummett
I’m raising my hand over here. As a historical writer who wants to spread the details on like a thick layer of cinnamon butter on a roll, I can relate to the importance of finding balance in this area.
Jennifer Zarifeh Major
Ohh, I love that you dedicated a post to this, Wendy!
We’re told to “show” but sometimes we only see the wide screen version, when we’d rather have the director’s cut.
In the opening scene of my MS, I have the MC watching as his home burns and his wife is shot, but he is too far away to help. Flames shoot up from their ‘hogan’ (six sided traditional Navajo home which has lots of combustible materials) and then he hears shots and sees his wife fall and slowly bleed out on the desert snow.
Then in the last chapter? The same story is told, only from the POV of the shooter, and only then does the reader fully ‘see’ what actually happened.
It was a challenge to write the scene in two POV’s, get everything exactly right, and then add the variations of combatant and witness that make the scene distinct in both minds. Adding details such as seeing flames so high that the MC never saw a horse and rider on the other side of the wall of fire, the visual interpretation of a man dragging a body, was it a rescue, or cruelty? Even the look on the shooter’s face, the MC saw anger, but the shooter was expressing terror. All those wee details made for a painstaking “view” of events.
No two witnesses ever see the same thing, and that theory gave me a lot to play with!
Wendy Lawton
You set yourself a tough technique to pull off, especially given that the book moves forward and then you go back to the opening scene. Brave writer, you. I look forward to reading this.
Jennifer Zarifeh Major
Why, thank you, Wendy.
I did it through dialogue, actually, a bit of a rage fueled confessional, in which the shooter re-counts his version of events to the widower of the woman he shot, who really wants to exact vengeance.
It was a challenge to get it to the emotional level it needed, without going over the top.
Jenni Brummett
Your statement should’ve come with a SPOILER ALERT.
Can’t wait to immerse myself in your story world, Jennifer.
Jennifer Zarifeh Major
Hey now, I never said how the conversation ended, did I? Muahahaha!
Jennifer Smith
I agree with Meghan that most things described need to fit in with the plot somewhere. Great post, Wendy! I love helpful reminders like this one.
Wendy Lawton
Not always with the plot. Sometimes we describe details that build the character.
I gave the Sarah Thomas link above. She has sixty-something identical twin sisters. Hard for strangers to tell apart but one twin is like the law and the other is like grace personified– Even their hair is alike but the grace-filled twin can’t keep her hair tamed. Little curls escape and frame her face. Perfect detail to tell us which twin is which.
Kiersti
What an awesome example–the sister’s hair escaping in graceful little curls. Thank you for such a creative and thought-provoking post, Wendy! I want to go now and look at some scenes that seem to be lacking something in my WIP–I wonder if zooming in on some places might make a difference.
Jeanne Takenaka
Loved this, Wendy. I have discovered I love being on the viewing side of a camera. The close up setting is one of my favorites. Thinking about your analogy, I don’t need to give everything a “close up” description. It’s better to focus on those things that would stand out to my character. Susan May Warren talks about walking a character through the scene and describing as they walk through the scene, interspersed with action, rather than as a big description at the beginning of the scene. It’s more organic that way.
It seems to me that if an author is simply describing the scene and it has no bearing on the story, it’s a waste of words and space. Even if the description is beautiful. I guess that sounds a little harsh. 🙂
You’ve got me thinking about this more. Thanks, Wendy!
shelli littleton
That was very helpful, Jeanne. “Even if the description is beautiful ….” That gave me more to ponder and act on! 🙂
Jennifer Zarifeh Major
“Susan May Warren talks about walking a character through the scene and describing as they walk through the scene, interspersed with action,”
The Canadian entered the guestroom and grinned at the subtle decor. T’was as if Betsy Ross knew she was arriving and went to work making appropriately ironic bedding for the person who knew all the words to God Save the Queen.”
That bed was cozy and the host? A true gem.
Jeanne Takenaka
Didn’t get to comment earlier, Jennifer. You just made me smile. 🙂 Love your descriptor! 😉
Wendy Lawton
When we are seeing things through the character’s eyes, description does double duty.
Sue Harrison
Jeanne, You really put it into context for me by mentioning that you your focus would be more effective if you zoom in on what is important to your main character.Thank you!
Kristen Joy Wilks
Ha ha, yep I’m working on this. I enjoy describing. Lately (for the past several years) I’ve been working to make sure that I’m describing the right things at the right moment. Man, the learning curve is steep.
Wendy Lawton
But don’t forget, if you are an avid reader much of this will be intuitive. You don’t have to second guess everything. If you go with your gut, chances are you will have done much of this instinctively.
Wendy Macdonald
Wendy, the lovely garden shots sure caught my eye today and your mention of the mystery genre.
In my Friday blogpost I talked about the camera angle and the passion behind the picture as being more important than the quality of the camera. Now you have inspired me to think about how this relates to writing/editing of my mystery novel. Sometimes I crave to describe something in detail to create suspense or foreshadowing. Other times I do it to lure the reader into believing in the validity of a red herring. It’s not until the editing stage that I know for sure if something is just a darling that needs to be killed off. With my second WIP I’m noticing sooner what things can be deleted and where details should be highlighted.
Blessings ~ Wendy ❀
Wendy Lawton
And when you are writing mystery you need to depend on your first readers to let you know if it worked. Mystery writers need many fresh readers because with each subsequent rewrite you need new eyes to see if the red herrings work and to make sure they can’t figure anything out until you are ready to let them have that clue.
A good mystery writer needs to be a wily strategist.
Wendy Macdonald
I need to crawl out of my writer’s den and round up some fresh readers soon–good advice. “Wily strategist” sounds wonderful. ❀
Kathy Boyd Fellure
Oh I love this blog, Wendy!
When you posted the Alice garden picture on Facebook I was taken in by the beauty of the English roses. With this second garden picture, you offer a different angle, another view into your garden. I asked if you use a white cotton sheet to protect your roses in three digit heat. I do.
My Tahoe novels are written through a photographers lens with a landscape view of the lake and the characters, the lake also a character.
The profile views, the close-ups are shot from many different angles, with differing backgrounds both interior and exterior.
What I manipulate through the frames I write, each reader will see through their own lens. Their views may be similar or dissimilar depending on their interpretation and how they chose to embrace the story.
Each word is important to me and the language spoken in paragraphs and chapters brings the the entirety of the novel into focus.
When writing and rewriting, many words are blurred and I may need to change lenses or crop in photo shop to finish the story.
The lyrical voice speaks in tone to complete the picture, much like a photo essay. If the reader learns the language and is captivated from beginning to end, then I, the author have truly accomplished a mastery and readers will want to seek out to read the next book too.
In the Language of the Lake, colors and texture are like snapshots, but I offer the reader the opportunity to be a part of the story, not just an outsider gazing at, or guessing what is coming next. Hopefully they will desire to swim in the lake and walk the journey alongside Jack and Emily, and Doc and Nana.
Jenni Brummett
Kathy, I’m drawn in by your passion for the lake, and the characters at the water’s edge.
I can’t wait to hold your books someday, friend!
Kathy Boyd Fellure
Thank you dear friend. I hope to hold them in my hands one day too. You are a sweet encourager Jenni and I cherish your Christ-centered heart.
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
To carry the photographic analogy a bit further, how about considering literary depth-of-field? (That being the range of distance from the camera through which meaningful focus is maintained.)
Depth of field in a camera is controlled by the aperture; the narrower (i.e., higher f-stop) it is, the greater depth-of-field is achieved, but commensurately more light and expose time are typically needed. It’s a trade-off – you can’t ‘stop motion’ and have a large depth-of-field in the same picture.
Painters can cheat, since they control depth-of-field directly. The artists of the Hudson River School were particularly good at this; Thomas Cole’s Biblically-themed paintings showed both the big picture and small vignettes that gave it life, on the same canvas.
Fredric Church, one of Cole’s students, carried this method to its epitome. If you look at hios “Cotopaxi” (http://www.dia.org/object-info/baeac490-f496-4a17-b917-dd0216d11492.aspx) you see at first glance the brooding, volcanic landscape. A bit threatening!
But then focus in (using the cool ‘rollover focus tool’ that the Detroit Art Institute provides) and you’ll see, on the lower left, a native calmly leading a llama, and on the lower right, in the gorge, birds flying toward the volcano.
So we have a story, that Cotopaxi, for all its somewhat scary grandeur, is just a part of life. Sure, it might blow, but birds have to build nests, and people have to live their lives in its shadow.
How about a literary example? Staying with the “invasion of Normandy” theme, let’s look at Stephen Ambrose’s “D-Day”.
Ambrose does a masterful job of telling the story at the elephant level, where the decision were made, and makes the arrows that represent moving armies come alive on the map.
But he also focuses in, and makes the inhuman scale a story of personal triumph, endurance, and loss. He opens with a description of the first British officer to die, Den Brotheridge, who was killed in the small hours of D-Day at Pegasus Bridge. Right there, you see that the huge sweep of a historical event is made up of the interwoven stories of individuals.
he creates a literary depth-of-field effect that not only makes the story come alive on two levels – it animates those levels by bringing down context from above, and bringing life from below.
Sue Harrison
In awe, Andrew,
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
I hear you. Seeing “Cotopaxi” in Detroit is quite an experience. It stays with you.
The first time I saw Church’s “Niagara”, in Dallas, I had to sit down on the floor. Its overwhelming presence, the way that Church controlled and directed that torrent to stay coiled and contained within the canvas, while minute pieces of flotsam whirled in the gyres…it was unlike anything I had experienced.
The gallery was silent, and filled with thunder at the same time.
As I was filed with awe.
Kathy Boyd Fellure
I stand beside you, Sue.
Jennifer Zarifeh Major
Seriously, I’m SUCH a 12 box of crayons. Remind me to never play Scrabble with you.
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
Darn. I was going to suggest we play Scrabble for money…
Jennifer Zarifeh Major
HA! As if!?!? No way, Shakespeare!!!
Kathy Boyd Fellure
Andrew,
I am drawn in to the depth of your observations and examples. Excellent choices and your final statement says it all. What every writer is striving to achieve.
Beautiful illustration of weaving the stories of individuals.
I would love to have a face-to face chat with you one day. Though you clearly define the message in the movies without needing a personal discussion.
Have you seen the black and white, 1953 Titanic movie with Barbara Stanwick and Clifton Webb? It is one of the most intense character studies in film history. The shadowing in and out of the camera, especially in the contract bridge card game scene as Richard Struges sinks to the lowest depths after learning ten year old Norman is not his biological son. The father and son relationship portrayed throughout the film digs deep into the heart and soul of each character, Norman’s innocence and unfailing love in contrast to his father’s shallow greed oriented self-importance, and immediate detachment to a son he supposedly cherished for a decade.
As a photographer, I would shoot Richard from the back walking into a fog to portray the character without facial features that define vulnerable exposure.
As a writer, I would zoom in and then fade out to let the reader make their own decision.
Many action-packed, high tech movies and books today are void of such symbolism and intricate detail that bring the depth-of-field you mention.
This film captures the father and son, at the end, in the same frame, with a clarity and sharpness that dispels any doubt for the viewer, and offers hope.
I see something new every time I watch the film that awakens my senses on a deeper level that before.
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
Wow, Kathy, thanks!
I have seen the ’53 “Titanic”, though it’s been a few years (and it’s SO much better than the 90s remake).
I like the way you think, in the way you’d shoot Richard. He lacks the overt vulnerability, but seen from the back, walking into a fog, there’s the implicit vulnerability of being human. Didn’t Rilke write a poem about that?
A lot of recent books and films don’t both with the depth-of-field…and that may be partly a function of the demand for action in the first few pages or frames. We see so few opening credits, now. I liked them – they built a sense of anticipation, a chance to transition into the movie world.
In keeping with the “Titanic” theme, I think that “Blood Diamond” (starring Leonardo DiCaprio) is an exception. The detailing of his character, the mercenary Danny Archer, is really exquisite. The details are predominantly in the acting; DiCaprio is a master of gesture and nuance, and one grows with the character, seeing him first as a highly unpleasant fellow, and then seeing that underneath there’s a good man who’s been brutalized by the circumstances of his life. (The cinematography and the score play a large role in this transition from grub to doomed butterfly.)
I’ve seen it many times; each time it’s harder to watch, because the lessons fall ever-closer to home.
Wendy Lawton
What an interesting analogy addition. . .
Sue Harrison
Wendy, this is one of those posts that opens my eyes to possibilities. Thank you so much!
Jennifer Zarifeh Major
Doesn’t it though!?
It’s like she shook up a can of pop (soda) and pulled the tab!
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
Nah.
With your description of the same scene bookending the story, seen from two different POVs, it’s not soda.
It’s champagne.
Jennifer Zarifeh Major
Awww, thank you! That’s so sweet.
Jenni Brummett
To the possible annoyance of many of my Facebook friends, I choose to wax poetic in some of my wall posts. For examplle, instead of saying, “Wow, that orange sunset is rad!” I say,”Rivulets of orange sherbet spill across the sky.” It’s a fun medium to record lyrical observations of the world. I really enjoy when other people do this too.
When it comes to my novels though, I need to be more disciplined in this area.
A good example of wide angle use appeared in season 1, episode 1 of Downton Abbey. Through the bustle of the house the camera followed after the carrier of a letter on a tray. The reaction of each person who read its contents kept me on the edge of my seat.
Jennifer Zarifeh Major
Ohhhh, I LOVE reading your descriptions!! They make me sigh…so good!
Jenni Brummett
Thanks, Jennifer.
Kathy Boyd Fellure
Jenni, Your poetic Facebook posts remind me of the song, When You taught Me How to Dance, in the film Miss Potter. Lovely.
Jenni Brummett
Blush. Thanks.
Wendy Lawton
Good example! I need to re-watch Downton, episode one.
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
Whenever I watch it, I STILL hear Petula Clark.
donnie nelson
In live theatre – If a shotgun is seen hanging over the mantle in Act I / Scene 1. . . it better go off before the end of Act III.
And don’t forget your writers camera also has a focus control.
We writers can do something few camera can -we can take an image in our mind of a scene and focus and re-focus on the plane we are writing about.
This is the only camera that can do this trick: https://www.lytro.com/#lytro-illum-introducing
Wendy Lawton
Good example, Donnie– the shotgun.
Lisa VanEngen
I love this topic and the comments! It’s my favorite way to write fiction, to think of it like a film.
Angela Mills
I’m catching up on reading here after vacation 🙂 I just wanted to say that 1. Love this post and I need to think bout this! and 2. I took a screenplay class in high school and ever since then, I notice camera angles as well. It can really ruin a story for me. I have learned that I have an unfair advantage and I’ve stopped guessing things when watching with my hubby.