A couple of days ago, I released this report summarizing the WTFs that have tripped me up during the first 50 ImmerseOrDie Reports, discussing some insights and statistics I’ve pulled together about them. Included in that report is a list of the 28 different different issues that have tripped me up while reading, and at the bottom of that list was the following entry:
Present tense: I simply can’t immerse into present-tense stories. It feels silly to me.
That report has seen a lot of attention in the last couple of days, but this single line item, which represents exactly 1 of the 131 citations I’ve made, appears to have generated the most heated discussion. And I understand why. A lot of people adore present tense, and I think I particularly tweaked their noses when I listed my reason as “it feels silly to me.” Fair cop. In a list that otherwise seems reasoned and dispassionate, this one item smacks of subjective pique, rather than cerebral consideration.
So in a few places where the question has been asked online, I promised to write up my explanation, and this article is my formal response.
First, let me say that, when I say “it feels silly to me,” I in no way mean to imply that other people should feel the same way. I get that it’s a trend that is gaining steam, and that lots of people read and write in present tense, and love it. But those people read and write in circles that I do not frequent.
I grew up reading traditionally published fantasy and SF in the 70s and 80s. In that time, and in those genres, I can’t remember a single case of a story written in the present tense. I don’t say this to suggest that “real writers don’t use present tense,” because clearly, there are lots of real writers working today who do use it. My only reason for relating this historical fact is to qualify that some portion of my feelings on this issue are probably based on expectations and biases I was trained to have in my youth.
But not all of them.
I’ve written about this issue several times in the past, but one of the most succinct examples comes from the IOD review in which I cited this problem in the first place. Here’s the first part of what I said then:
This is going to gain me some snarls and growls from a lot of writers – especially younger ones – but I’m going to do my best to explain why this creates problems for me. Fans of the present tense mode like to say that it is more immediate. It puts you in the middle of the action, like it’s happening now. And actually, that’s exactly what my problem is. Because I know it’s not happening now. If it were, how did this book get written and put into my hands, days before the events took place? That sounds like a picky detail, but I kid you not, that’s the question that keeps running through my head. Subconsciously, I know it can’t possibly be happening now, so clearly this is made up. With past tense, I am at least able to concede that it might have happened. After all, I wasn’t there. But if you tell me it’s happening now, while I’m watching, I call bullshit, because it clearly isn’t. Your writing mode is in conflict with my subjective reality. And that’s a hard premise from which to construct willing suspension and immersion.
I’m sure many readers don’t think about things this deeply when they’re reading, and as a rule, I don’t either. But that’s after my willing suspension has kicked in and I’ve gotten into the flow of the story. When there’s something about the writing itself that prevents me from actually achieving that immersion, I can’t just ignore it and force the immersion to happen anyway. That’s not how immersion works.
Anyway, in the original article, I then went on to discuss the historical issue…
Worse, it conflicts with the cultural tradition of storytelling. I believe that we humans are hard-wired for stories. They are a form of early-warning system, in which important cultural lessons are accumulated and passed down. It goes back to the warrior, returning from the hunt, and relating how he crept under the banyan tree on the trail of a gazelle, only to have a tiger leap on him from the overhanging branches. Survival lesson: don’t go under a banyan tree without checking the branches first. These stories are always conveyed in the past tense, and that subtle cue gives them veracity. It did happen. The narrator was there. It was real. And this story is the lesson he brings to share with me from that harrowing experience.
Now obviously, plenty of people are able to relate just fine to present tense stories, so it would be absurd to suggest that there’s any kind of genetic predisposition to hearing stories in past tense only. But the point about increasing the verisimilitude is one I feel strongly about. Stories told in the present tense do not feel true to me in the way that past tense accounts do. In fact – and here’s where the “silliness” thing comes in – well, here’s what I said at the time:
By contrast, present tense story telling conveys a more anecdotal, inconsequential feeling to me. So there I am, a chicken in one hand and a squirrel in the other, when my belt lets go and my pants drop to my knees. What am I supposed to do?
For me, present tense always feels like the setup to a joke, and that makes it harder for me to take the story seriously.
It doesn’t have to feel that way to you, but it does to me, and that’s the only truth I can report. But I know I’m not alone. For every email or internet comment I got saying that I was being unfair about present tense, I got an equal number saying “Amen to that!” and “I’m with you, brother!” That doesn’t make present tense a “mistake.” It just means that if you use it, there are going to be some people who won’t like your book. And that is just something every writer has to learn to accept, because every choice you make as a writer is a decision that will close the door to some readers, while opening a door to others.
It’s just part of the territory.
Anyway, having looked back over my previous explanation, I find that I don’t really have much more to add. I know lots of you like present tense, or at least tolerate it, and that’s fine. I don’t suggest that you change a thing. But ImmerseOrDie is not a report on what authors must or must not do. Nor is it a report on what all readers like or disklike. It is a report on what works for me, and what doesn’t. And hopefully, the reports are clear enough, and well enough expressed, that they give authors another tool they can use to help them decide which issues might affect a sizeable chunk of their audience. All I can do in my reports is be honest about my experience, and try to explain why the book evoked whatever feelings it evoked. And that’s what I do.
So go ahead and use present tense fiction if you like, and I even invite you to submit to the IOD. But be aware that you’re likely to start with 1 WTF out of the gate. That’s not a killer though, since you get 2 for free. But if your stuff is good and there’s nothing else to trip me up, you’ll still make it to 40.
And who knows? Maybe somebody will submit a present-tense book so gripping that I don’t even notice. It could happen.
I would say the same about second person. “You woke up on the beach, alone.” No I didn’t! And second person present tense will make me drop a story almost instantly.
Excellent point, Martin.
This article helped shed light on why I am so irked by the use of this style. I am currently reading Black House by Stephen King and Peter Straub. It’s an engaging story, but I often find myself immediately forgetting what I just read. It’s like a whirlwind of heavy description in my head, all buzzing past, but very little of it actually sticks. It’s overwhelming to my senses.
Would second person present tense be acceptable to you for things like adventure game books where it would make you, the reader, the character in the story/ player in the game?
”
You wake up on a beach. You don’t recognize it. It is very long with one end heavily sand duned and grassy, the other end being more… …You decide to:
1 Look around nearby
2 Leave towards inland
3 Jump in the water
etc
“
Ah, the old Crystal Caverns tense. :-) To me, second person has never worked for long-form fiction, but is perfectly fine for short interactive blocks.
The difference, I think, is that second person carries a stronger signal of artifice. The book says: “You are standing in a musty cellar.” But the reader knows categorically that this is not true. He is sitting in his comfortable reading chair, and that ongoing cognitive dissonance makes it hard to fully immerse.
By contrast, “Dave was standing in a musty cellar.” carries no inherent conflict that needs to be suppressed, so the reader is free to just go with the facts as they’re presented.
If the goal is to recreate the feeling of playing a text-adventure game, then by all means, embrace 2nd person present. But if the goal is to create a more deeply-immersed reading experience, either of the other tenses would create fewer obstacles.
This fundamental conflict is also why I think interactive fiction will always work better in video game form than in text adventures. In video, you don’t ever have to say “You are standing in a musty cellar.” The player sees the cobwebs and the dusty furnace and draws their own inferences.
Ultimately, that’s the goal of immersive writing: to get the reader to reach their own conclusions about what is happening rather than telling them explicitly.
I don’t care to debate the pros and cons of fiction in the present tense, but really, Mr. Smith, I find a central premise of your argument, well, to be frankly, rather childish — namely, “Your writing mode is in conflict with my subjective reality. And that’s a hard premise from which to construct willing suspension and immersion.” Are you honestly saying that you have to suspend your disbelief in order to immerse yourself in a fiction? Isn’t a fiction *always*, just always yelling at you, merely by being a book in your hand and a story taking place in your head, “I’m a fiction, you can’t believe this is real”?
I understand that “the willing suspension of disbelief” is a critical mainstay. But the mainstay is absolute tripe. I’ve read thousands of novels in my lifetime, and I can’t remember a single one that ever convinced me to suspend my disbelief — or needed to. In fact, disbelieving what I’m reading is one of the things I go to fiction for. Non-fiction prose fallaciously claims to be “objective,” to bypass subjective reality, when in fact you never can. But fiction, by very dint of postulating people and events that provoke disbelief, asserts the primacy of subjective reality.
Good reading is an exercise in imagination. Pretend that this is happening right now. Pretend that “you wake up on the beach alone.” Being unable to read with imagination — needing the fiction to trick you somehow into thinking it isn’t a fiction — isn’t a failure on the writer’s part. If something as small as tense or point of view puts you off otherwise well-written, worthwhile literature, then you really need to make yourself a more capacious reader.
I’ve attempted to explain the subjective cognition and state of mind that I experience when I read present tense fiction, and to theorize on where that comes from. If my explanation seems childish to you, then I guess, by your definition, I must be childish. But I choose to see that as a very powerful quality to find in a writer of fantasy, and take great heart from your ability to see it in me.
I wrote my first novel in present tense, because I had noticed a lot of new fiction I was reading was being written that way and I wanted to see if I could pull it off. I found that it did lend a certain sense of immediacy, but…
1) It was a pain. Especially in third person, one’s instinct is to write in past tense.
2) It really bugged some readers, enough that I decided to revise the whole thing to past tense.
3) If writing in present is a pain, revising from present to past is even more of one.
I didn’t learn my lesson early enough, either. I just finished revising the second novel from first person present tense to third person past tense, and it’s a copy-editing nightmare.
But it was worth doing. Nothing makes me happier than reviews that refer to missed subway stops, lost sleep, and skipped meals, and I’d hate to let a tense get in the way of that.
I’m curious, Sandra. From the perspective of a writer who has told the same story in different tenses, do you find any difference in the feeling you think you’re actually able to convey in the different modes?
I have a hard time reading present tense. Not all writers can execute it well. I’ve noticed some authors tend to slip into past tense here and there, and that pulls me out of the story. When it’s done well, I forget what tense I’m reading and become fully immersed in the story.
Totally agree. I have got through whole novels written in the present tense, but I didn’t like it. I blogged on the subject here: http://lexirevellian.blogspot.co.uk/2009/03/aagh-not-present-tense.html
As a writer, I’ve used it once, for a thousand word short story in first person where the narrator finds himself in the afterlife, and it’s essential he does not know the unpleasant surprise in store for him.
I just popped over to this blog post after commenting about the issue on your post about writing mistakes. I think you are onto a generational difference. I’m with you. I like the illusion that the story actually happened. The more recent preference seems to be for books which seem like movies. It goes beyond the use of present tense. In a movie like experience, the viewer gets a clear view of everything in the scene, yet this clear view gets in the way of believability. I have a great fondness for epistolary novels. Having the characters write the story makes it seem more like it really happened. But movie trained readers find this distracting. The clear view nd edge of the seat excitement is sacrificed to plausibility. For a writer balancing plausibility vs excitement can be tricky.
Gah! I wish I’d found this article a couple of months ago when it was released. I agree with your comment on the “movie like experience” of present tense. It was actually the first thing that came to mind when I read this article. Also, like you I also really enjoy the epistolary style.
I’m not old, only 30, but I remember books being more important to me as entertainment, when I was very young, than movies or TV were. There has been such an explosion of kids TV and movies in the last few decades though, that maybe this is changing.
I find present tense difficult to read and thought I just hated it because I was a fuddy-duddy who likes more traditional writing styles. When I read Ursula K. LeGuin’s comments on it in Steering the Craft, I felt like she hit the nail on the head. To really get her arguments, read pp 71-76 in chapter 6. The thing that stuck with me most was her argument that present tense is actually limiting to the story, and can affect continuity negatively. Stories told in past tense easily embrace all other times, past and future, but present tense allows for awkward use of past tenses and artificial use of future tense, limiting the story to the immediate slice of time and linear storytelling. Clearly, it’s the hot new thing (the YA I read uses it all the time, along with first person, as if there is no other way to tell a compelling story) and comes in the end down to personal preference and the writer’s intentions.
Glad to see someone taking on the trend and pointing out its weaknesses.
Thanks for that citation, Kit. I’ll have a look. It’s funny that so many people get quite defensive when I talk about not liking present tense, but nobody bats an eyelash when I say the same thing about second person. ::shrug::
I absolutely agree. I have, at times, purchased books without using the “Look inside” feature, only to find upon opening the file that the book is in present tense. I just stop reading. I’ve tried to force myself to continue, but I eventually give up. It’s like having a splinter in your finger that you can’t see to remove–a constant irritant with no possibility of relief.
Whenever I read present-tense novels, I feel as I’ve purchased a fleshed-out screenplay treatment. I generally don’t finish these books.
Nor do I finish novels that start with a chapter in first person present tense, switch to third person past tense for the second, then pop back into first person present for the third. Sometimes the viewpoint character is the same in these chapters, often not.
I found that 1st person present tense can be a great way to differentiate one characters POV from the others. I wrote a novelette where the scenes of the main character are 1st-present (with the limitation that brings: focus is on the here and now and the thoughts and feelings of this one individual), and all other scenes are 3rd person limited to the scene’s POV. This worked very well for me. I tried to write the main character in 1st-past too (because I usually don’t like present tense either) but it didn’t sit right with me. So I did what my subconscious told me, and I like it. That said, I will most definitely not write a full novel in present tense. That’d be way too tedious and I’d probably hate it after finishing the first draft.
As it happens, the book I started this morning is first-person, present tense, and I’m not a fan of either aspect, but I’m giving the book some time to win me over. First person is limiting in that you can’t shift POV without some structural cues to the reader (which become obvious after a while and thus become intrusive), and present tense gets clunky/awkward when the character starts talking about things that happened in the past…for the character. I also have that back-of-the-mind knowledge that this is NOT happening NOW, and that it’s a device chosen by the author.
I’m always leery of present tense (just as I am of second person narratives) because it’s a choice that is too often made–I feel–just to be “edgy.” If we stipulate that third person past tense limited omniscience is the standard, there has top be a compelling reason to go to first person or present tense (and you better have a damned good reason to go to second person). Both the POV and the non-standard tense need to be there for a reason, not just because it’s trendy and cool.
Any time you step outside a standard, any time you break a “rule” or deviate from the norm, the reader will notice. That deviation better bring something to the party, and make up for the disruption in reader flow.
For me, present tense works find in poetry, where you’re building an image dynamically and don’t have to hold past and future in the same frame. It can work fine in a short story, where likewise the form is more concentrated. In a novel, it’s a stretch, and as I said, there better be a reason for it.
Testify, Brother Kurt! Can I get a ‘Hallelujah?’
Damn. A typo in my comment. Arg.
“By contrast, present tense story telling conveys a more anecdotal, inconsequential feeling to me.”
You are committing a logical fallacy here. You’re taking a single instance in which the present tense is used, and using that as the be all end all example of present tense. I could do exactly the same thing with past tense.
“Why did the chicken cross the road?”
Past tense feels just like a set up to a joke to me, here, too.
Deciding that you can’t suspend your disbelief because of present tense is also a pretty wonky way to defend your argument. Does that mean you couldn’t read Harry Potter because magic doesn’t exist? Reading stories set in the future is a no go for you unless it’s in future tense? Is all fantasy fiction silly because you simply know they couldn’t have happened?
In the same way, I could also subjectively use this to criticize past tense by claiming that reading a story that doesn’t feel immediate breaks my suspension of disbelief. What do I care of events that aren’t happening now? If it’s happening now, my immersion won’t be broken because that means that I can care about what’s going on without having it be a foregone conclusion. See? Things like this work from both sides.
Now, I’m not saying that you’re wrong. I understand that you and a lot of other readers have trouble with present tense because you’re not used to it, and telling authors to be aware of that is a fair piece of advice. I do agree that authors should be aware that choosing present tense might push away some possible readers. But to claim that it’s one step below past tense, or that it “feels silly” by using such weak and subjective arguments does feel very childish, like a previous commenter said. You come off like someone trying really hard to prove that vanilla ice cream is better than chocolate ice cream, when both are just different flavors.
You apparently have misunderstood the purpose of the post. I am not trying to “prove” anything. I am stating a cold, hard, unimpeachable fact: present tense story telling conveys a more anecdotal, inconsequential feeling to me. What follows is not offered as a proof of any kind. It is my attempt to explore and present what I think might be at the root of why I feel that way. As you will see in all my other posts, a big part of my approach to reviewing and critiquing is to explain not only how I reacted to some issue, but also why that might be the case. And when it comes to teasing out the root causes and consequences of my subjective experience, the results are often times going to be hazy, vague, or possibly even contradictory, because, like it or not, that’s how the subconscious behaves. But I happen to believe that this fulsome exploration is more informative to other writers than a simple “present tense is icky.” Does it sometimes make me look petty, or inconsistent, or crazed? ::shrug:: Maybe, but I challenge anybody to try these deeper, reflective explorations and not sound that way from time to time.
I think Jefferson always made it clear in all his posts that he’s presenting his subjective meaning. You may differ, he even insists that you do, but this is his site and he’s entitled to his own opinion. That won’t change that fact that more and more stories are written in present tense these days. Some readers (writers) will like it, others will hate it, and even others will be indifferent. That’s the great thing about tolerance. You can state your opinion without forcing anyone to share your believes.
Well, um. A publisher’s editor went through three chapters of one of my WIPs and shifted it to 1st present. Rocked me on my backside. The immediacy & vibrancy cracked my world wide open. (YA High Fantasy.)
Yes, it took a lot of headbanging to get the voice right. And as Jefferson so wonderfully illustrates in his report (Following rabbit holes got me to this discussion) the echoing “I” headword, easy trap to fall in. BTW, Jefferson, your report? Amazing cautionary tales for any writer, indie or not!)
I made the switch and adore it. You want to see it seamlessly done? The first chp of the first book of the Hunger Games. The brevity, clarity and impact – wow! Pierce Brown’s Red Rising. Same deal.
And here’s the boot on the other foot: 3rd past has got to sing to draw me in as a reader now.
It’s interesting to see your opposing experience, Morgyn. In all probability, if I subjected myself to a steady diet of excellent present tense stories, I might eventually become accustomed to it—at least to the point where it no longer rankled—but I can’t see myself ever preferring it to simple past. Fortunately, the story-mine is big enough that every author gets to pick and choose which veins to work without all of us getting crowded into the same dark tunnel. Vive la difference!
First person present tense never feels immediate to me. It feels false and pretentious.
In addition, it is a waste of a perfectly good language that happens to have a past tense.
I speak four languages with varying degrees of fluency: English, German, French, and Italian. Each of these languages contains a past tense. The first way a person learns to speak in these languages is in the the present tense, but as mastery is achieved, past tense and then future will be taught. Why is this? Because, quite simply, tenses make for clearer writing.
There are languages that do not even contain this wonderful thing, the ability to say when something happened. I can’t fathom why this wonderful aspect of language would not be embraced and used for the clarity it creates.