Time and tense: past or present, the writer’s dilemma

The critique session was billed as friendly, supportive, helpful. No one’s work, the group leader assured us, would be torn to pieces by the panel of four much-published authors. Until, that is, the authors sat aghast at my reading. Because it was, shockingly – and I beg you to contain your horror at this – the pages were written in present tense. 

One panelist declared she would never read a book written in present tense. Another, at a loss for words, said nothing, but only scribbled on the pages, “present tense – ick.” Still another delivered an impassioned monologue about the evils of present tense, a fad which could only appeal to millennials. 

image: pixabay

However, far from being a mere millennial-generation fad, a few minutes with a search engine turned up some thought-provoking examples of present tense novels written in pre-millennial days, including these from The Write Practice site: Bleak House, (admittedly, with some past tense sections) by that 19^th century codger Charles Dickens; Rabbit, Run, by John Updike; and All Quiet on the Western Front, by Erich Maria Remarque. 

All of which left me wondering why present tense ever got such a bad rap. And why, if it was so bad, no editor or writer in the numerous other classes and workshops I had attended had ever cautioned me against its use.

So, it was with a feeling of chagrin that, when checking my earlier posts at this site, I ran across my own admonition against the use of present tense: “. . . the equivalent of running (a marathon) in leg shackles.” 

My only excuse for such a shocking comment is that it was written in 2010. (I also had a strange prejudice at the time about writing with a first-person point of view. Go figure.)

Still, times change, and so do writers. Who doesn’t want to try a new technique, add a new tool to my box of craft. Why not try writing in present tense since, I told myself, it could always be changed later if it didn’t work. At first it did feel a lot like running in shackles. I found myself constantly pulled up short, constantly reverting to the more familiar, seemingly cozier past tense while hardly realizing what I was doing.

But like all skills, present tense got easier with practice.

In mid-2014, I wrote a science fiction short story for a contest. In past tense. It got some nice comments from the judges, but was only a runner-up. Not a winner. By the end of 2014, I had rewritten it in present tense. This time around, it sold. For the curious, the story was “Planet, Paper, Space,” published in 2015 in Luna Station Quarterly.

By that same year of 2015, I had revised an earlier novel into present tense, and achieved a first chapter which has since received thumbs-up from my online critique group. By late 2015, I even managed to overcome my introvert’s fear of first person and submitted the opening of a new novel with both the new-to-me techniques for the Writer’s League of Texas contest. I was driving down a country road on the way to a family reunion when a message popped up on my phone: “Congratulations! You’re a WLT manuscript winner!” 

I’ll admit, I’m still going back and forth with the agent who picked that piece of present tense writing out of the contest slush pile. But the small victories were enough to convince me that, yes, I can write in present tense if I want, and if the story needs it. 

Perhaps I should mention that some authors believe the use of present tense destroys a story’s suspense. However, through trial and error I had unconsciously learned the lesson author Jenny Martin would later put into words during her workshop at the Roanoke Writers Conference this past fall: that use of the present tense automatically raises the suspenseful question, “Does this person survive?” We know she’s alive now? But will she still be living at the story’s end?

If we’re going to get all grammatical, there are also multiple versions of both past and present tense, all of which have their own purposes. And for those asking, well, what about writing in future tense – Martin’s advice was, “just don’t!”. Although I can feel my fingers itching right now. . .  

Studying the techniques of thriller writers also clued me to another suspense-generating technique applicable to either present or past tense – use of multiple points of view. Which perhaps I’ll post about at some later time. 

Obviously, I haven’t embraced present tense for all purposes – as witness this post written in past tense. Because the events it describes are, well, in the past. As one of the panelists I dissed about at the beginning of this post told me later, readers’ – and writers’ – tastes differ, but the important thing is to tell the story that’s burning to be told. No matter what tense it demands.