When my mother passed, I inherited her Hammond organ. My husband, both an engineer and a guitarist, welcomed it into our home, for it was the same model used by The Allman Brothers, Emerson, Lake, and Palmer, Pink Floyd, and other rock bands in the 70s. After doing some basic oiling and repair of the organ, he hooked up his the booster pedals he uses with his electric guitars to see what kind of sound he could get from it. The result was a reverberating “wawa” that undoubtedly woke the neighbors and caused dogs in yards a good half mile away to howl.
As writers, we want to send that same “wawa” reverb into our readers. Grant Blackwood, author and screenwriter, says that our readers should encounter words, images, characters, and dialogue that have both magnitude and volume. Here are some suggestions on how to put the “wawa” in your writing:
- Make your characters “wawa” about their world. One of the best ways to do this is to maintain a consistent point of view. Whether you choose first person, third person limited, second person, or omniscient, a consistent point of view builds trust with your reader. Elizabeth George, author of Write Away, advises writers never to describe setting, landscape, or other characters from a detached or impersonal point of view. Instead, let your reader see everything through your point of view character’s eyes, no matter how myopic or misguided those eyes might be. Use specific and telling details that depict not only the individual, but a collective type. That’s not to say stereotype. We want our characters to be initially recognizable to our readers so that we can add surprising complexity to their inner lives.
- An example of this is found in Margaret Atwood’s The Robber Bride. The collective type of the character of Charis is a familiar one. She is concerned about the environment and the terrible things happening to our planet, appalled by the pollution and crowding in the city, against the killing of any living creature, a friend of Vietnam draft dodgers from the U.S., a volunteer at the soup kitchen, terrified of confrontation. You know the type, right? While gardening (another peaceful avocation), Charis tenderly turns over the soil to protect the worms that aerate her vegetable patch. Coming across a grub, she picks it up and throws it to the hens she keeps in a nearby pen. With some satisfaction, she watches them squabble and peck at one another over the grub, then watches them chase the victorious hen as it tries to escape with the prize. Just when we think Charis is familiar, she shows a surprisingly vengeful side—one that reverberates through the novel.
- Let your characters struggle, perhaps by making bad decisions and choices. In The Art of War for Writers, James Scott Bell states that characters should have both an inner struggle and an inner conflict. Although the terms sound similar, there are important distinctions between them. An inner struggle is something that the character possesses before the story begins. It’s not tied to the plot, but rather a flaw or trait that has held the character back in their dealings with the world. It might be self-doubt, shyness, social awkwardness, an inability to act, or impulsiveness. Bell urges writers to create a reason for this inner struggle: e.g., something that happened in childhood, a cruel teacher or mentor, a broken home, a terrible loss or accident. In Atwood’s The Robber Bride, Charis’s abhorrence of conflict and her darker thoughts both arise from the abuse she suffered as a child.
- An inner conflict arises from the character’s objectives and relates directly to the plot. The character needs to get something, get away from something, or get to something in order to solve the problem, complete their character arc, or become fulfilled. The struggle is real and complicated by external events—there’s the possibility of failure and, in some cases, death. There are internal obstacles as well. Bell cites an echoing inner voice that tells the character they aren’t good enough or that they don’t have the right stuff (see Charis above). All of this makes for a story that is emotionally charged, complex, and filled with reverberation.
- Lastly, test your writing. Author Kathy Fish recommends reading aloud with your hand on your chest to “feel” what resonates in your writing. If you don’t feel your words in your body as you are speaking aloud, how do you expect a reader to feel the “wawa” in theirs?
I didn’t let my husband “wawa” my mother’s Hammond organ for long; after all, the wildest thing she ever played on it was probably “San Antonio Rose.” But for a few hours, it echoed the great 70s bands, as if it had aspirations to fill a stadium. Your writing should do the same—send out a wawa, reverberate, have magnitude and volume—to give your readers an unforgettable experience.
Photo by Laurie Marr Wasmund
Great advice… and now I want to hear that Hammond organ do its wawa thing!