Why you should study Sharp Objects

Studying great stories is an essential part of becoming a better writer. It not only allows us to reverse-engineer solutions, but it keeps us inspired and curious about our craft.

One of those stories is Gillian Flynn’s Sharp Objects. This is one of the most thought-provoking crime stories I’ve ever read, succeeding in exploring difficult themes without ever feeling heavy-handed. It relies on the plot itself to unspool thoughts on the kinds of violence that exist in the world, delivering fully on its promises as a crime story and using that story to challenge a scarred protagonist to overcome her past. The first person narration creates an intimate look at the protagonist’s hometown, Wind Gap, where journalist Camille Preaker must return to investigate the gruesome murders of two girls.

As always, when studying novels, I recommend reading twice over: once to experience it as a reader, and then again to look more in depth at the mechanics. Once you know the setups and payoffs, it’s easier to go back through the novel and track them.

Who should read this book?

• Honestly? Anyone writing a crime story.

• Crime or fantasy writers whose exposition tends toward the lighter side and who want a primer on choosing the most evocative language and details.

• Crime or fantasy writers whose worlds are taking place in a more constrained environment.

What should you be looking for?

Sharp Objects is an amazing work to look at as a crime story. On your second readthrough, look for the subtle clues that Flynn planted through Camille’s investigation and interactions with other characters. It’s also a great look at using the protagonist’s line of work as a means of creating obstacles and opportunities in the investigation. Pay attention to how Camille’s work as a journalist impacts her investigation. Make notes of how each person responds to her based on this specific role.

Make note of the descriptions that draw your attention. What are the details Flynn chooses to focus our attention on? Notice how she often chooses the most off-putting details. By contrast, when she is describing something normal (say, a person’s face), notice the actual words and phrases she chooses. She often describes perfectly ordinary things in, for lack of a better way to put it, gross terms. The types of words and language she uses often feels more suited for a horror story than a crime story. Rather than cold, neutral language, we get unsettling imagery and descriptions that set our teeth on edge.

By contrast with Ninth House, the world of Wind Gap is tightly constrained. The world of Ninth House, while singular and specific, is, in a way, broad. There is magic to understand, a world beyond the Veil, and many houses with unique specialties and environments that the protagonist moves in and out of. Wind Gap is a small, dumpy town, filled with inhabitants who were born in Wind Gap and plan to die in Wind Gap. This means that it has developed a culture entirely its own: a small town culture of specific life cycles (where kids go to play, teenagers go to make out, where they eventually all grow up to buy houses as adults), rules, and long-standing relationships. Look for the hallmarks of this culture. How does Camille’s position as a former insider help us to understand how the town works? What are the specific details that she notices? How do the interactions with the people of the town illuminate the kind of place Wind Gap is?

How do you apply this to your work?

If you’re writing a crime story, your protagonist should have a specific line of work. That line of work should create specific concerns, obstacles, and opportunities in their investigation, including the way other characters respond to them. Use this to help create or increase conflict in your story as a whole as well as in your scenes. For example:

• A police officer might be concerned about following procedure for getting evidence, but have access to specific resources to help them. Characters will feel variety of ways about talking to a police officer.

• A journalist might be worried about getting a complete story by their deadline, but can be stone-walled by officials. Characters may be excited to talk to a journalist or resistant.

  
  

Where Sharp Objects particularly shines in is evocative language and atmosphere in connection with the setting and events. If you’re looking to maximize the impact of the details in your exposition, think about what you’re actually describing and the words you’re using to describe it.

Picture the scene in your head. What is the audience meant to feel about what you’re describing? Begin to pull out the details of the scene that will evoke that feeling, and experiment with the actual way you’re describing it. For example, what details and word choice might make a small house feel cozy, versus the details and word choices that might make it feel claustrophobic?

Think about the setting of your story and the people in it. Use your characters as a way to tease out details about what the environment is like. What are the histories, rivalries, and alliances of the people who inhabit this setting? What is your protagonist’s position to this setting (are they an insider or an outsider?), and how does this shape their perspective and experience of this setting?

If you’ve been around me for any length of time, you know what’s coming next: use your protagonist’s relationship to the setting to create obstacles and opportunities in their pursuit of their goal.

If you want to go deeper into Gillian Flynn's Sharp Objects, join Dana and I as we analyze and discuss on the Story Deep Dive podcast!