Negative Space

I studied art (painting) a long, long, long, long, long time ago. Negative space was often discussed – referring to the shapes that form between objects, for example, a patch of sky between two trees on a hillside. Artists are trained to consider negative space in their work.

What about the art of writing? How does negative space play into scenes in a novel? When my husband read through the first draft of my second novel he puzzled over the absence of a critical character in a vital scene. The scene takes place at a North Jersey pub the night after the 9/11 attacks. The missing character is a man named John, one of several point-of-view characters in the novel. The scene in question is not John's point-of-view, making his absence at least technically feasible. His presence is everywhere in the scene, even though he is not. My husband couldn’t wrap his head around this. Where is John? It makes no sense that he is not standing behind the bar or at least sitting on a stool drinking a beer.

I've just finished revising and rewriting based on Mike's comments. Many of his suggestions were well founded and will make the story fit together better. But not the scene at the pub where John is absent. John needs to be absent from this scene. Because it occurred to me that John's absence is the negative space that is necessary to move this scene into a later, pivotal scene.

In art, the painter might start with the patch of sky between the two trees on a hillside – the negative space. The artist might show light coming from the sun through a small break in the clouds. And the light might land on one tree and not the other, emphasizing a particular shape or pattern on the bark. All because the artist looked for, found, and embraced the negative space. 

In writing, negative space can be a conversation that doesn't happen between two characters. Perhaps a character wants to reconcile with an estranged older sibling only to hesitate – for powerful reasons within the context of the story – and walk away instead. And then there are those awkward moments at the door, when Character Y and Character Z hesitate and part without saying what both so desperately want to say. In any of these scenarios, a writer can often convey more with what is unsaid (and, in some cases, unseen). Character Y and Character Z don't need to say a thing. All they need to do is notice the negative space – the sunlight slicing through that beautiful patch of sky between those two trees on the hillside.

And so it is in real life, too. Sometimes we need to say what we need to say. Yet there are times when the unspoken (negative space) can indeed be beautiful. Like John’s absence in the pub scene. His absence allows him to be elsewhere, risking his life to do a beautiful thing. Because sometimes, that patch of sky – that space between the trees – can be the most beautiful thing in the world.