Ambiguity: A mind game or a gift?

I fell hard for ambiguity in fiction after rereading An Na's The Place Between Breaths, a YA novel about a teenager named Grace whose schizophrenic mother has gone missing. Na uses the four seasons as chapter titles. Spring is the only chapters that have an assigned POV (Grace), but the other three seasons can be told from two characters' perspectives, and depending on who you choose will alter the story.

When I learned about this, all I could think was, WHOA! You can play with POVs and let your readers decide how they read the story? I've read books with multiple interpretations, but this was when creative control blew up in my face. You can tell from my blog title that unconventional writing techniques stick to my brain, and I'll never peel them off. I've admired Na's gift for writing for years and wondered if I could play with POVs in my own work. At the time, I was finishing my line edits for The Quiet Edge of Memory, and my pantser spirit was telling me to take a step back and reconstruct some of my novel.

I adopted Na's method and wrote a new opening chapter titled Maternity. I used second person, and the words pouring out were either Martha talking to her mother or Ian addressing his Korean birthmother or adopted mom. Both are yearning for a close maternal bond and expressing their fears about how their family dynamics would shape them in the future.

Okay, this was pretty cool, but what would my readers think? Is this a good idea for a debut novel? I had my doubts, but I kept going. I went through my manuscript and found any commonalities my characters had. In The Quiet Edge of Memory, my protagonists lug around baggage from depression and abuse. And as their parents navigate the aftermath of broken marriages, their fathers are the ones haunted by what ifs and should haves and are desperate for some closure.

So, I banged out more ambiguity.

Calamity can be read from Martha or Ian's father's POV.

Perplexity is either Martha's father or Ian watching her cope after she discovers her newfound faith comes with some heavy consequences.

Adversity is Ian addressing Martha or vice versa after he makes some life-altering decisions.

Infinity is Martha's mother or father talking to her before the story concludes.

And the last chapter? I can't explain it without spoiling it.

Photo by Therese Vercellone

My decisions for this novel were met with curiosity, criticism--and I'm grateful to report--some understanding. I was told this was a waste of time. It was too much work for my readers. I should have written an explanation in the book and wasn't putting my audience first.

In other words, taking creative risks should not be celebrated. It's selfish.

If writers never go beyond the trends and experiment with storytelling, there is no such thing as creating your own brand, honoring your own voice, and you will never know if a writing technique was worth it until you use it. Creative risks inspire and challenge art. They form discussions, cause you to ponder, and remind us that the imagination has no boundaries.

Ambiguity isn't for everyone and that's okay. I understand there are people who want every chapter of a story to make sense. But I also understand me. I understand what I wanted for The Quiet Edge of Memory. It became a story I never really finished writing because I let my readers do some of the storytelling, and I can't imagine it written any other way.