My Four Big D’s - Part 3: Digression

Written By Lisa Clifford - Author/Journalist

Digression is the third D of my big Four D’s in this writing series. We’ve covered Distraction, Derailment, and today, Digression.

The internet says digression means:

An instance of digressing, especially a written or spoken passage that has no bearing on the main subject. The definition of a digression is a spoken or written piece that moves away from the main topic. 

Wikipedia says this: Digression (parékbasis in Greek, egressiodigressio and excursion in Latin) is a section of a composition or speech that marks a temporary shift of subject; the digression ends when the writer or speaker returns to the main topic. Digressions can be used intentionally as a stylistic or rhetorical device.

But what happens when a writer does not return to the main subject? Or digresses in such a way that the words have no bearing on what must happen in the scene? Digression almost always happens when writers forget what they are moving towards. When the flow of words carries you away. When ideas are popping off and extrapolation, description, backstory or dialogue transports you to a place you never wanted to get to.

It is utterly normal and understandable to digress when writing. It is how we come across many of our creative ideas. Free writing an idea is all about digression but you have to bring it back to exactly what you want your readers to either sense or understand. Or what it is you want to reveal.

Most deviations are handled effectively with editing. You can clearly see where you have rambled or strayed from what you want your reader to understand or what you need to move toward when editing. Does the ‘digression’ serve my character foundation? My plot? Is it driving the narrative forward?

For example (and I’m pretty sure you understand exactly what I mean about being transported into digression when your writing is going well), I was writing about a character questioning a classically charming Mediterranean scene. The kind of scene that many delight in when they travel to Italy or Greece. I wanted to use this scene to prompt my character’s impatience with patriarchy and the ‘male world’ in which she now lived. The scene was rolling along nicely and felt as though it was working till the red bits:

She snapped a photo of the local café. The awning had at some point been red and white stripes but was now faded into a candy pink affair. As if the coffee shop sold lollypops rather than espressos. The village men, only the men, sat in a wide semi-circle on the front terrace. They didn’t speak to each other. They appeared all talked out, as though they’d said what they wanted to say years ago. Each gaze turned away from its neighbor, middle distance and unfocussed. The gentle mid-morning sun soaked their paunches under well ironed almost identical shirts. Lana framed them, snapped some close-ups. She mused over the men’s absent partners. Their women no doubt at home, prepping the pasta, popping the lasagna into the oven, basting the roast chicken. Ensuring the family’s smooth Sunday lunch, possibly with their daughters by their sides while their husbands relaxed with old friends at the piazza café. Or sons waited to be served. She saw all the meals she’d prepared for her husband, the lunches and dinners and shopping and chopping. In her mind’s eye she saw Santo push back from the table, his knife and fork askew, and leave the table in favor of the TV. The washing up solely hers.

I was happy with what I’d written till the character started to sound resentful. Though the character is resentful, had I digressed too much? It was starting to sound snippy and bitchy. So I tried another tack:

One of the men on the terrace looked like Santo. The same broad build and swarthy complexion. Only he was pudgy now, his darkness grey around the edges. He caught her looking at him and pulled his slump up, fixed his shoulders back, adjusted his expression to appear more attractive. As if he had a chance with her.

 Hmm, methinks I had digressed yet again. Did I really want the men to be creepy?

Would I be better off simply exploring this kind of thought?

Something like anger pitched in her stomach. How little Santo understood of her, what she’d exchanged for standing in this piazza, right now, fiddling inexpertly with her camera. He couldn’t fully imagine what life was like for her now.

Yep. I liked this way better. I had digressed but caught myself and brought it back in line. The above is not pure digression because I am on point. But it strayed into dangerous territory with too much unnecessary detail. Too obvious. I am better off going with what she feels, a bit of inner reflection because the emotion would set up the next scene where she tries to explain to Santo how she feels. In that scene, Santo suggests she goes onto anti-depressants and gaslights her. The anger pitching in her stomach better serves the story.

I hope you understand what I mean by all of this. Digression is natural and is only a problem when you don’t catch it in time.

Next week, the final D in this Four Part D series - disenchantment!

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If you’d like to share any comments or thoughts, I’d be happy to hear from you. Email me directly at lisacliffordwriter@gmail.com.

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