Have you ever noticed that when you ask someone for their recipe and try it yourself, it doesn’t always come out quite like the original? Sure, it’s still good, but it’s just different. The same works in reverse. You give a friend your world famous cookie recipe and they call you up. “It didn’t work!” they complain. “It doesn’t taste anything like yours.”
When you make your applesauce cake or your enchiladas, you are adding more than just ingredients. You have a special touch. Maybe it’s the way you hold the spoon that makes the food a little fluffier. Maybe it’s the way you add the eggs one at a time or all together. Whatever it is, it’s uniquely yours and you can’t pass that along with the recipe.
The same goes for writing. You can take a hundred classes on writing dialogue and take notes until you run out of ink, and yet your dialogue will come out different from every other person in that class. You may all be using the same principles, but because you are you, your dialogue will have something in it that no one else’s has.
“But I went to Rachel Ann Nunes’ class on romance!” you say to yourself. “Why can’t I write like her?” It’s because Rachel is Rachel, and you are you. Wouldn’t it be boring if we all wrote exactly the same way? There would be no room for individuality, for personality in our writing. Isn’t that half the fun of it?
In summary, don’t be discouraged if you don’t write like Anita Stansfield or Gerald Lund or Keith Fisher. Find what’s unique about you. Capitalize on it. Revel in it. It’s part of who you are, and that’s something no one else can copy.
Friday, August 25, 2006
Monday, August 21, 2006
Writer Tip #16 -- Write What You Know
This is probably the most common writing tip ever dispensed by any English teacher, college professor, publisher, editor, author – you name ‘em, they’ve said it. “Write what you know!” they say, pounding the table or podium or tree or whatever hard surface they happen to be standing by.
Well, when I was a Japanese man . . .
What do I know about being a Japanese man? Absolutely nothing! Not one blessed thing! And yet the book I wrote about a Japanese man won me rave reviews from readers and critics alike.
I’d like to offer my own slant on “write what you know,” and that’s to write what you feel passionate about. That passion will give you the drive to learn what you need to know.
Research can be grueling. It takes hours upon hours of reading and surfing the net and talking to people who have the knowledge you need. Without sufficient passion for your topic, it would be easy to throw your hands up in the air and say, “Forget it! Who needs this?” But when you’re passionate about your project, you will find the strength to read one more book, one more article, make one more phone call, and then another, until you have what you need. And that is how I wrote about a Japanese man – careful research.
But on another tack, there are emotions in my novel that are very real to me. I’ve felt anger, I’ve felt resentment, I’ve felt sorrow for sin, and so I could then use those emotions to describe how my character felt. In that sense, I did write what I knew.
In summary, don’t throw your story out the window just because it has elements in it you’ve never experienced. As you research and learn what you need to know to write those scenes, you can experience those events vicariously. But bring a piece of yourself into it with you.
Friday, August 18, 2006
Writer Tip #15 -- Exposition
Just what is exposition, you ask? As I sat down to write this blog, after covering the pot of chicken noodle soup on the stove to keep it warm for my husband, who is working late tonight at a job he’s had for about a year and a half, I thought it over.
I’m so tricky! That whole last sentence was exposition.
Any time you need to fill the reader in on what’s going on, you are using exposition. Let’s look at some other examples.
Cassidy tied on her apron and went to work bussing the table. This job wasn’t so bad, really, not like the job she’d had in San Antonio as a telemarketer. She couldn’t believe how rude some people could be. But maybe it was best not to think about San Antonio. That was where she met Jeff, with his intriguing eyes and his fascination with dead bodies. “I’m going to write a horror novel someday,” he told her. But then he explained that he was already engaged to someone named Jen. He’d never been serious about Cassidy; he’d really never even flirted with her, but still, a girl could dream.
We started this paragraph out in real time, then drifted in to exposition to explain some of the “why” she is where she is.
As a general rule, it’s best to only use exposition when you really need it. If you can, show things in real time. Perhaps I should have begun with Cassidy meeting Jeff, showing that in real time, then fast forward to her bussing tables. That way, I could have shown her feelings while they were current.
What you absolutely want to avoid at all costs is giving the reader page after page of exposition. In fact, even half a page is a bit much. If it needs to be there, you can break it up with dialogue, spread it over a few chapters, or turn it into dialogue.
Caution!! Don’t turn it into bad dialogue! For instance:
Gil turned to Cassidy. “Why won’t you go out with me?”
“It’s not you, Gil. It’s me. Last year, I lived in San Antonio and was working as a telemarketer when I met this guy named Jeff. He had intriguing eyes and a fascination for dead bodies. He told me he was going to write horror novels someday, and then he told me he was engaged to someone named Jen. We weren’t dating or anything; he’d never even flirted with me. But a girl can dream, right?”
Dialogue shouldn’t be used to tell the reader what they need to know; it should be used to tell other characters what they need to know.
How about this, which is a happy medium:
Gil turned to Cassidy. “Why won’t you go out with me?”
“It’s not you, Gil, it’s me.”
“Is there someone else?”
“Yes. No. I mean, not really. But a girl can dream, right?” She thought about Jeff, the guy with the intriguing eyes she met while working as a telemarketer in San Antonio. He said he was going to write horror novels someday. What was he doing now?
“He must have been some guy.”
“He was. But he was engaged.”
“I’m sorry.”
But now, here’s the real question. Does it matter that she was working as a telemarketer? Does it matter that this all happened in San Antonio? Sometimes an author will spend a lot of time giving their character a background, and then it turns out, they don’t need it. Maybe her telemarketing career will come into play later in the book, but if it doesn’t, it’s perfectly all right to say that she met Jeff last summer in San Antonio. And if that’s not important to the plot, she could say that she met Jeff last summer. You want to give your reader enough details that they feel involved in the story, but don’t bog them down with exposition that’s not needed.
And if you’ve figured out who Jeff is, pat yourself on the back and treat yourself to an Otter Pop.
I’m so tricky! That whole last sentence was exposition.
Any time you need to fill the reader in on what’s going on, you are using exposition. Let’s look at some other examples.
Cassidy tied on her apron and went to work bussing the table. This job wasn’t so bad, really, not like the job she’d had in San Antonio as a telemarketer. She couldn’t believe how rude some people could be. But maybe it was best not to think about San Antonio. That was where she met Jeff, with his intriguing eyes and his fascination with dead bodies. “I’m going to write a horror novel someday,” he told her. But then he explained that he was already engaged to someone named Jen. He’d never been serious about Cassidy; he’d really never even flirted with her, but still, a girl could dream.
We started this paragraph out in real time, then drifted in to exposition to explain some of the “why” she is where she is.
As a general rule, it’s best to only use exposition when you really need it. If you can, show things in real time. Perhaps I should have begun with Cassidy meeting Jeff, showing that in real time, then fast forward to her bussing tables. That way, I could have shown her feelings while they were current.
What you absolutely want to avoid at all costs is giving the reader page after page of exposition. In fact, even half a page is a bit much. If it needs to be there, you can break it up with dialogue, spread it over a few chapters, or turn it into dialogue.
Caution!! Don’t turn it into bad dialogue! For instance:
Gil turned to Cassidy. “Why won’t you go out with me?”
“It’s not you, Gil. It’s me. Last year, I lived in San Antonio and was working as a telemarketer when I met this guy named Jeff. He had intriguing eyes and a fascination for dead bodies. He told me he was going to write horror novels someday, and then he told me he was engaged to someone named Jen. We weren’t dating or anything; he’d never even flirted with me. But a girl can dream, right?”
Dialogue shouldn’t be used to tell the reader what they need to know; it should be used to tell other characters what they need to know.
How about this, which is a happy medium:
Gil turned to Cassidy. “Why won’t you go out with me?”
“It’s not you, Gil, it’s me.”
“Is there someone else?”
“Yes. No. I mean, not really. But a girl can dream, right?” She thought about Jeff, the guy with the intriguing eyes she met while working as a telemarketer in San Antonio. He said he was going to write horror novels someday. What was he doing now?
“He must have been some guy.”
“He was. But he was engaged.”
“I’m sorry.”
But now, here’s the real question. Does it matter that she was working as a telemarketer? Does it matter that this all happened in San Antonio? Sometimes an author will spend a lot of time giving their character a background, and then it turns out, they don’t need it. Maybe her telemarketing career will come into play later in the book, but if it doesn’t, it’s perfectly all right to say that she met Jeff last summer in San Antonio. And if that’s not important to the plot, she could say that she met Jeff last summer. You want to give your reader enough details that they feel involved in the story, but don’t bog them down with exposition that’s not needed.
And if you’ve figured out who Jeff is, pat yourself on the back and treat yourself to an Otter Pop.
Writer Tip #14 -- When Phrases Don't Make Sense
Every so often, you’ll stumble on a phrase that could be taken one of two ways. Occasionally hilarious and sometimes – ahem – naughty, these phrases should be hunted down and weeded out of your manuscript for total clarity. LDS author Annette Lyon keeps a list of funny sentences written (accidentally) by members of her critique group and has generously shared them here.
-Quiet and patient, Alice's dark hair was always pulled into a simple bun.
-After our morning in the hay,
-She told me her aunt had died just before she passed out.
-We'd better get going before Herb beats us.
-He began, then stopped seeing Jacob's scowl
-Lizzie's hands flew to her mouth. Inside lay four books.
-Suddenly, my mom turned into a driveway.
-Felipe skirted the men.
-John couldn't help but notice the internment sniffing.
-Andrew noted his lean frame on the high counter sipping his drink.
-Perhaps Liza had taken his mother's journal or even that poor soul, Gus.
-Lighting a candle, she settled beneath the covers.
-The odor reminded him of his mother's big, smelly chest.
(referring to a cedar chest)
And some of my own:
- Jordon’s breath came in pants. (Oh, really? Jeans or khakis?)
- Call in a fresh set of eyes and take their advice. (If my eyes ever start giving me advice, I’d freak out)
When we get into the groove and the ideas are flowing, they often don’t flow in perfect, complete phrases. This is what the second draft is for, to go through and carefully read everything. Can a sentence be taken in more than one way? Did you completely miss the meaning of the sentence altogether? This is where another set of eyes can be invaluable. Have your spouse or good friend read for you. Tell them to be honest and point out any sentences that don’t make sense, and then by all means, change them.
In summary, what is sometimes perfectly clear in our own minds is actually blurry. Make sure that you’re saying what you really meant to say, and that your reader is getting the same message you’re sending.
-Quiet and patient, Alice's dark hair was always pulled into a simple bun.
-After our morning in the hay,
-She told me her aunt had died just before she passed out.
-We'd better get going before Herb beats us.
-He began, then stopped seeing Jacob's scowl
-Lizzie's hands flew to her mouth. Inside lay four books.
-Suddenly, my mom turned into a driveway.
-Felipe skirted the men.
-John couldn't help but notice the internment sniffing.
-Andrew noted his lean frame on the high counter sipping his drink.
-Perhaps Liza had taken his mother's journal or even that poor soul, Gus.
-Lighting a candle, she settled beneath the covers.
-The odor reminded him of his mother's big, smelly chest.
(referring to a cedar chest)
And some of my own:
- Jordon’s breath came in pants. (Oh, really? Jeans or khakis?)
- Call in a fresh set of eyes and take their advice. (If my eyes ever start giving me advice, I’d freak out)
When we get into the groove and the ideas are flowing, they often don’t flow in perfect, complete phrases. This is what the second draft is for, to go through and carefully read everything. Can a sentence be taken in more than one way? Did you completely miss the meaning of the sentence altogether? This is where another set of eyes can be invaluable. Have your spouse or good friend read for you. Tell them to be honest and point out any sentences that don’t make sense, and then by all means, change them.
In summary, what is sometimes perfectly clear in our own minds is actually blurry. Make sure that you’re saying what you really meant to say, and that your reader is getting the same message you’re sending.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Blogging, Gotta Love It!
As I mentioned last week, I have been hired by Families.com to write media reviews. My personal area of interest at this point is literature for adults, and television shows for children and families. I hope you'll swing by and check out my reviews. They will be posted daily and I'm going to be covering a wide variety of genres.
The Families.com site is great. They have blogs on nearly every topic you can think of, be you Christian, LDS, Muslim, single, divorced, married, hungry, or bored. Go spend some time over there and see what you think.
The Families.com site is great. They have blogs on nearly every topic you can think of, be you Christian, LDS, Muslim, single, divorced, married, hungry, or bored. Go spend some time over there and see what you think.
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
What's Wrong With LDS Fiction?
The following blog is Tristi's opinion only and is not intended to represent the feelings or attitude of any other LDS author.
With all the drama that has taken place recently between Deseret Book and Seagull, many have asked “What’s wrong with the LDS market?” So many articles and blogs have already been written on the subject, and so much better than I could write them, that I’m going to leave that topic in the hands of those who know more than myself. I’m going to talk about what’s wrong with LDS fiction.
I have repeatedly heard the comment that “LDS fiction just isn’t as good as national fiction.” Many readers won’t touch LDS fiction and think it’s fluffy and poorly written. Can I tell you a secret? To a certain extent, I agree.
Let me explain myself. LDS authors walk a very curious line. On the one hand, they want to write positive, uplifting stories. On the other, they are constrained by the social mores of the culture and often, can’t tell the story properly for fear it will offend someone. LDS authors want to share the gospel through their books. On the one hand, they are told they are preachy. On the other, they are told that they need to inject more of the gospel into their books. LDS authors want to break the mold that has been created for them, and yet time and time again, they are shoved back into that mold by a) readers’ complaints b) cautious publishers and editors c) what will sell in the market.
What ends up happening is that the author finds themselves backed into a corner. They have certain standards that already naturally exist in their writing, and then they find other standards imposed on them by the publisher or editor, who says, “Tell more about the gospel by page 5.” It doesn’t naturally belong in the story at that point, but the author complies and inserts it, and then they get branded as preachy. Something has got to give.
An additional problem exists when you look at the actual mechanics of the writing itself. Looking at a broad spectrum and not picking on any one author in particular, I notice a trend toward the overuse of certain words: “grimace,” “quip,” “sighed.” The list goes on. For some reason, this trend exists on a smaller scale in the national market, but seems rampant in the LDS. We get stuck on three or four favorite words and use them repeatedly throughout the book. I’ve done it too; don’t throw eggs at me.
And there are certain things that are expected of LDS fiction. Oddly enough, they are demanded by 50% of the reading population and hated by the other 50%.
1. All of the characters have to be LDS, or have to convert to being LDS. If you end the book without a conversion, the reader is upset, but you can’t go into too much detail about the conversion without being labeled as preachy. And if two people fall in love, and one is LDS and the other not, you know full well that a conversion will have to take place before they can end up together.
2. A miracle or at least an answer to prayer should take place at some point in the book.
3. One or more characters should bear their testimony in the course of the book, and another character should be deeply touched by it.
4. Characters should be guided by inspiration, but not too much of it. Again, you get branded as preachy if there’s too much of it, and it’s not considered to truly be an LDS book without it.
So what are we going to do to solve these problems? Here are some suggestions for your consideration. Make of them what you will.
1. LDS authors should take the time to really study their craft. Read the grammar and editing books, attend classes, read quality literature and study the mechanics so they can incorporate those principles into their own books. Be brave and try new plot twists. Explore the unknown.
2. LDS authors should edit themselves more carefully, and pass their manuscripts through many people before submitting it. They should take their writing more seriously and not as a hobby.
3. LDS editors need to go through the manuscripts with a fine-tooth comb, being tough when necessary, and make the manuscript as clean as possible. In the national market, 2-5 typos in a book are normal, but in the LDS market, it’s not uncommon to see upwards of 30 and sometimes as many as 50. (Yes, I have been counting) This is the responsibility not only of the author and the editor, but the typesetter as well.
In addition, there needs to be more leeway in plot. Allow us to break the mold.
4. LDS readers need to understand that we as authors are doing our best to write uplifting literature for our culture. Sometimes that means we won’t put the gospel in until page 6 or 10. Sometimes we’ll leave it in the background because the plot insists on it. Sometimes it will be in the foreground because that’s what the characters need. Understand that we are doing our best to walk the line.
5. We need to be given more freedom. Once upon a time, the most controversial LDS books focused on the theme – “Which returned missionary should I marry?” Now we’re able to write about grittier issues, the things that really face us in the world today. The market has opened up quite a bit, but we are still faced with criticism. “Thank you for telling the story, but did you have to be so graphic?” Graphic? No, not by a long shot. We’re telling the truth and while we’re phrasing it as circumspectly as we can, we have to be given the freedom to tell it well. It’s not our intent to gross anyone out or cuss and swear; we just want to be able to tell the story. (I say “we” meaning LDS authors, but I do realize I don’t represent the feelings of all LDS authors out there; I’m speaking for myself in particular.)
I love this market. I’ve never envisioned myself ever leaving it. I love writing about the Church and people in it, and I’d be content to stay in this genre the rest of my life. But there are a few things that have got to give.
I welcome your comments, but please don’t send me a long list of authors who are the exception to the things I’ve listed. I know there are exceptions, and I applaud them. Now the trick is, making them the norm and not the exception.
With all the drama that has taken place recently between Deseret Book and Seagull, many have asked “What’s wrong with the LDS market?” So many articles and blogs have already been written on the subject, and so much better than I could write them, that I’m going to leave that topic in the hands of those who know more than myself. I’m going to talk about what’s wrong with LDS fiction.
I have repeatedly heard the comment that “LDS fiction just isn’t as good as national fiction.” Many readers won’t touch LDS fiction and think it’s fluffy and poorly written. Can I tell you a secret? To a certain extent, I agree.
Let me explain myself. LDS authors walk a very curious line. On the one hand, they want to write positive, uplifting stories. On the other, they are constrained by the social mores of the culture and often, can’t tell the story properly for fear it will offend someone. LDS authors want to share the gospel through their books. On the one hand, they are told they are preachy. On the other, they are told that they need to inject more of the gospel into their books. LDS authors want to break the mold that has been created for them, and yet time and time again, they are shoved back into that mold by a) readers’ complaints b) cautious publishers and editors c) what will sell in the market.
What ends up happening is that the author finds themselves backed into a corner. They have certain standards that already naturally exist in their writing, and then they find other standards imposed on them by the publisher or editor, who says, “Tell more about the gospel by page 5.” It doesn’t naturally belong in the story at that point, but the author complies and inserts it, and then they get branded as preachy. Something has got to give.
An additional problem exists when you look at the actual mechanics of the writing itself. Looking at a broad spectrum and not picking on any one author in particular, I notice a trend toward the overuse of certain words: “grimace,” “quip,” “sighed.” The list goes on. For some reason, this trend exists on a smaller scale in the national market, but seems rampant in the LDS. We get stuck on three or four favorite words and use them repeatedly throughout the book. I’ve done it too; don’t throw eggs at me.
And there are certain things that are expected of LDS fiction. Oddly enough, they are demanded by 50% of the reading population and hated by the other 50%.
1. All of the characters have to be LDS, or have to convert to being LDS. If you end the book without a conversion, the reader is upset, but you can’t go into too much detail about the conversion without being labeled as preachy. And if two people fall in love, and one is LDS and the other not, you know full well that a conversion will have to take place before they can end up together.
2. A miracle or at least an answer to prayer should take place at some point in the book.
3. One or more characters should bear their testimony in the course of the book, and another character should be deeply touched by it.
4. Characters should be guided by inspiration, but not too much of it. Again, you get branded as preachy if there’s too much of it, and it’s not considered to truly be an LDS book without it.
So what are we going to do to solve these problems? Here are some suggestions for your consideration. Make of them what you will.
1. LDS authors should take the time to really study their craft. Read the grammar and editing books, attend classes, read quality literature and study the mechanics so they can incorporate those principles into their own books. Be brave and try new plot twists. Explore the unknown.
2. LDS authors should edit themselves more carefully, and pass their manuscripts through many people before submitting it. They should take their writing more seriously and not as a hobby.
3. LDS editors need to go through the manuscripts with a fine-tooth comb, being tough when necessary, and make the manuscript as clean as possible. In the national market, 2-5 typos in a book are normal, but in the LDS market, it’s not uncommon to see upwards of 30 and sometimes as many as 50. (Yes, I have been counting) This is the responsibility not only of the author and the editor, but the typesetter as well.
In addition, there needs to be more leeway in plot. Allow us to break the mold.
4. LDS readers need to understand that we as authors are doing our best to write uplifting literature for our culture. Sometimes that means we won’t put the gospel in until page 6 or 10. Sometimes we’ll leave it in the background because the plot insists on it. Sometimes it will be in the foreground because that’s what the characters need. Understand that we are doing our best to walk the line.
5. We need to be given more freedom. Once upon a time, the most controversial LDS books focused on the theme – “Which returned missionary should I marry?” Now we’re able to write about grittier issues, the things that really face us in the world today. The market has opened up quite a bit, but we are still faced with criticism. “Thank you for telling the story, but did you have to be so graphic?” Graphic? No, not by a long shot. We’re telling the truth and while we’re phrasing it as circumspectly as we can, we have to be given the freedom to tell it well. It’s not our intent to gross anyone out or cuss and swear; we just want to be able to tell the story. (I say “we” meaning LDS authors, but I do realize I don’t represent the feelings of all LDS authors out there; I’m speaking for myself in particular.)
I love this market. I’ve never envisioned myself ever leaving it. I love writing about the Church and people in it, and I’d be content to stay in this genre the rest of my life. But there are a few things that have got to give.
I welcome your comments, but please don’t send me a long list of authors who are the exception to the things I’ve listed. I know there are exceptions, and I applaud them. Now the trick is, making them the norm and not the exception.
Writer Tip #13 -- Naming Your Characters
The door opened and there stood Hezekiah, drenched with rain. “I had to come,” he gasped, puffing drops of water off his drooping mustache. “I had to see you.”
“Oh, Hezzy,” Tyhicialnea sighed. “That’s so romantic.”
Have you ever wondered where authors get their characters’ names? I can’t speak for everyone, but I’ll share some of my secrets with you.
1. Baby name books or websites. Every so often, I’ll check out a baby name book from the library. (Believe me, this always gets me curious looks. I’m just fat, okay? Not pregnant) Or I’ll hit a baby name website. I scroll through and jot down every name that appeals to me. Some names are pretty, for a heroine or beloved aunt. Some are simple, for that no-nonsense school teacher. Some are dashing, some are plain. Any name that strikes me goes on the list.
You can also find last names on the Internet, as well as names that were popular thirty or a hundred years ago, if you’re writing historical and want the names to be accurate. Just put “baby names 1976” and see what pops up.
2. Eavesdropping. You heard me right. When you overhear a conversation, you’ll hear names being spoken. Now, I’m not suggesting that you stand over people’s shoulders, but you know how it is – you’ll be in line at the supermarket and the person in front of you will get a call on their cell phone. “Oh, hi, Aggie,” she’ll say. Aggie! What a great name for the ailing aunt in your book! “No, I didn’t call Vivian,” she goes on. And there’s the heroine’s name.
In fact, this is how my son Ammon was named. Eight months pregnant and waddling around the church, I needed a drink and passed two young boys on the way down the hall. One called the other “Ammon.” It struck me and stuck.
3. Movie and TV show credits. Ever notice that really long list of names that follows every movie and TV show? Read through those credits and jot down any names that leap out at you.
4. The telephone book. A little obvious, but very accessible. I wouldn’t recommend using someone’s whole name in its entirety, however. Take the first name from page 100 and the second from page 134, for instance.
5. Family genealogy. Grab your pedigree charts and see what your ancestors were named. This is a great idea especially when writing historical and you need some good, old-fashioned names.
Okay, now you have a really long list of names you like. What is the best way to organize them? Again, I can’t speak for everyone, but this is what I did.
I started by dividing them into three groups: male, female, and last names. Then I put them into alphabetical order. That gave me one sheet with female names, one with male, and one with last names. I stapled them together and tucked them into the little file I keep right here by my desk. Any time I need a character name, I pull out the list, read it until I find a name that suits that character, and cross it off the list. Then I look for a last name that goes well with the first, and cross it off. Every so often I pull up the list on the computer and delete all the names I’ve crossed off and reprint the list. (I like things to look neat and tidy) This way I keep track of what I’ve used.
I do of course add new names to the list as I discover them. I also added a list for pet names, should the need arise.
You will find your own methods, I’m sure. But hopefully, these tips will help you get started in your quest for the perfect character name.
In summary, keep your eyes and ears open and jot down all the names that appeal to you. Keep the list handy and add to it regularly. And if you find that the name you’ve chosen doesn’t seem to fit, grab the list and try again.
“Oh, Hezzy,” Tyhicialnea sighed. “That’s so romantic.”
Have you ever wondered where authors get their characters’ names? I can’t speak for everyone, but I’ll share some of my secrets with you.
1. Baby name books or websites. Every so often, I’ll check out a baby name book from the library. (Believe me, this always gets me curious looks. I’m just fat, okay? Not pregnant) Or I’ll hit a baby name website. I scroll through and jot down every name that appeals to me. Some names are pretty, for a heroine or beloved aunt. Some are simple, for that no-nonsense school teacher. Some are dashing, some are plain. Any name that strikes me goes on the list.
You can also find last names on the Internet, as well as names that were popular thirty or a hundred years ago, if you’re writing historical and want the names to be accurate. Just put “baby names 1976” and see what pops up.
2. Eavesdropping. You heard me right. When you overhear a conversation, you’ll hear names being spoken. Now, I’m not suggesting that you stand over people’s shoulders, but you know how it is – you’ll be in line at the supermarket and the person in front of you will get a call on their cell phone. “Oh, hi, Aggie,” she’ll say. Aggie! What a great name for the ailing aunt in your book! “No, I didn’t call Vivian,” she goes on. And there’s the heroine’s name.
In fact, this is how my son Ammon was named. Eight months pregnant and waddling around the church, I needed a drink and passed two young boys on the way down the hall. One called the other “Ammon.” It struck me and stuck.
3. Movie and TV show credits. Ever notice that really long list of names that follows every movie and TV show? Read through those credits and jot down any names that leap out at you.
4. The telephone book. A little obvious, but very accessible. I wouldn’t recommend using someone’s whole name in its entirety, however. Take the first name from page 100 and the second from page 134, for instance.
5. Family genealogy. Grab your pedigree charts and see what your ancestors were named. This is a great idea especially when writing historical and you need some good, old-fashioned names.
Okay, now you have a really long list of names you like. What is the best way to organize them? Again, I can’t speak for everyone, but this is what I did.
I started by dividing them into three groups: male, female, and last names. Then I put them into alphabetical order. That gave me one sheet with female names, one with male, and one with last names. I stapled them together and tucked them into the little file I keep right here by my desk. Any time I need a character name, I pull out the list, read it until I find a name that suits that character, and cross it off the list. Then I look for a last name that goes well with the first, and cross it off. Every so often I pull up the list on the computer and delete all the names I’ve crossed off and reprint the list. (I like things to look neat and tidy) This way I keep track of what I’ve used.
I do of course add new names to the list as I discover them. I also added a list for pet names, should the need arise.
You will find your own methods, I’m sure. But hopefully, these tips will help you get started in your quest for the perfect character name.
In summary, keep your eyes and ears open and jot down all the names that appeal to you. Keep the list handy and add to it regularly. And if you find that the name you’ve chosen doesn’t seem to fit, grab the list and try again.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Writer Tip #12 -- Speech Attributions
We talked a little bit about speech attribution in the book analysis I did last week. I’d like to delve into it further in today’s blog.
A speech attribution is what tells the reader who has just spoken or who is about to speak. The most common, popular, and generally used attribution is “said.” A few years back there was some debate as to whether or not to use the word “said,” and it became the thing to do to use it as little as possible. Lately, though, the trend has shifted back the other way, and I, for one, am glad.
Throwing in too many unusual speech attributions can bog down the dialogue. The reader’s attention gets drawn to the attribution, and they become distracted from what’s being said. The dialogue should be the star of the show, not how someone said it.
Whatever you do, make sure that the attribution is physically possible. For instance:
“What do you mean?” she sniffed.
I don’t know about you, but my nostrils don’t talk. It is impossible for me to sniff a sentence. Unless your character is super talented, I would suggest that she sniff after she’s done talking, or that she get a tissue.
Taking a drink from her glass, she asked, “What do you mean?”
Wow! She’s good! I know ventriloquists can talk and drink at the same time, but I didn’t know this character could. We should get her on a talent show!
“Said” is one of those invisible words. You can use it a number of times without getting in trouble for it. But let’s take the example a bit further with a little picnic scene.
Doug sat the picnic basket down on the riverbank. “I’m so glad you came with me, Laura,” he breathed.
“Me too,” Laura exulted, spreading the blanket down on the grass.
“It couldn’t be a more perfect day,” he agreed.
“Wait! What’s that?” Laura exclaimed.
“It -- it appears to be a dead body floating on the river,” Doug stuttered.
“How could that be?” Laura questioned.
Let’s back this up and take a look at it. I’ve taken every care not to use the word “said,” and it’s extremely obvious, isn’t it? In fact, it’s so obvious, it sticks out like a size 12 shoe at the prom. I say some fixing is in order. Compare the sentences above with the sentences below.
Doug sat the picnic basket down on the riverbank. “I’m so glad you came with me, Laura.” (Notice that he just performed an action and we’re still in the same paragraph. Anything said in this paragraph will be said by Doug. If she wants to talk, we have to make a new paragraph. Therefore, we don’t have to point out that he’s the one talking. Additionally, there are only the two of them and he just called her by name. Therefore, we know he’s the one talking.)
“Me too,” Laura said, spreading the blanket down on the grass. (There’s a “said.” It’s not so terrible, now, is it?)
“It couldn’t be a more perfect day.” Doug took a seat beside her. (Again, there’s an action performed by Doug, so we know that’s Doug talking. These actions are called “beats.”)
“Wait! What’s that?” Laura jumped up and pointed to the water. (We already know from the exclamation point that she exclaimed. Handy little device, that.)
“It -- it appears to be a dead body floating on the river,” Doug said. (We also already know that he stuttered. It had something to do with the fact that we saw the word “it” twice. That would be called stuttering.)
“How could that be?” Laura reached for her cell phone and began to dial. (Again, we already know it was a question – the question mark gave it away. So let’s give Laura something to do that’s a little more meaningful than gaping like a fish.)
In summary, don’t bog down your dialogue with speech attributions. A lot of the time, they aren’t needed as frequently as they’re used, and they distract from the story.
A speech attribution is what tells the reader who has just spoken or who is about to speak. The most common, popular, and generally used attribution is “said.” A few years back there was some debate as to whether or not to use the word “said,” and it became the thing to do to use it as little as possible. Lately, though, the trend has shifted back the other way, and I, for one, am glad.
Throwing in too many unusual speech attributions can bog down the dialogue. The reader’s attention gets drawn to the attribution, and they become distracted from what’s being said. The dialogue should be the star of the show, not how someone said it.
Whatever you do, make sure that the attribution is physically possible. For instance:
“What do you mean?” she sniffed.
I don’t know about you, but my nostrils don’t talk. It is impossible for me to sniff a sentence. Unless your character is super talented, I would suggest that she sniff after she’s done talking, or that she get a tissue.
Taking a drink from her glass, she asked, “What do you mean?”
Wow! She’s good! I know ventriloquists can talk and drink at the same time, but I didn’t know this character could. We should get her on a talent show!
“Said” is one of those invisible words. You can use it a number of times without getting in trouble for it. But let’s take the example a bit further with a little picnic scene.
Doug sat the picnic basket down on the riverbank. “I’m so glad you came with me, Laura,” he breathed.
“Me too,” Laura exulted, spreading the blanket down on the grass.
“It couldn’t be a more perfect day,” he agreed.
“Wait! What’s that?” Laura exclaimed.
“It -- it appears to be a dead body floating on the river,” Doug stuttered.
“How could that be?” Laura questioned.
Let’s back this up and take a look at it. I’ve taken every care not to use the word “said,” and it’s extremely obvious, isn’t it? In fact, it’s so obvious, it sticks out like a size 12 shoe at the prom. I say some fixing is in order. Compare the sentences above with the sentences below.
Doug sat the picnic basket down on the riverbank. “I’m so glad you came with me, Laura.” (Notice that he just performed an action and we’re still in the same paragraph. Anything said in this paragraph will be said by Doug. If she wants to talk, we have to make a new paragraph. Therefore, we don’t have to point out that he’s the one talking. Additionally, there are only the two of them and he just called her by name. Therefore, we know he’s the one talking.)
“Me too,” Laura said, spreading the blanket down on the grass. (There’s a “said.” It’s not so terrible, now, is it?)
“It couldn’t be a more perfect day.” Doug took a seat beside her. (Again, there’s an action performed by Doug, so we know that’s Doug talking. These actions are called “beats.”)
“Wait! What’s that?” Laura jumped up and pointed to the water. (We already know from the exclamation point that she exclaimed. Handy little device, that.)
“It -- it appears to be a dead body floating on the river,” Doug said. (We also already know that he stuttered. It had something to do with the fact that we saw the word “it” twice. That would be called stuttering.)
“How could that be?” Laura reached for her cell phone and began to dial. (Again, we already know it was a question – the question mark gave it away. So let’s give Laura something to do that’s a little more meaningful than gaping like a fish.)
In summary, don’t bog down your dialogue with speech attributions. A lot of the time, they aren’t needed as frequently as they’re used, and they distract from the story.
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Classes on Writing
In the comment trail for my last blog, Framed said: "I will probably never write a book, but I am sure enjoying learning about the process from you. Do you teach classes on writing?"
Sure enough, I do!
I belong to a group called LDStorymakers. We started out as an e-mail support group for LDS authors, but quickly evolved into something much larger. In 2004, we began holding conferences to teach writing to those who would like to become published authors. We all pitch in and teach classes that range from elementary to more advanced, and we have quickly gained a reputation for being the best writers conference in Utah. Our next conference is scheduled for March of 2007. You can keep your eyes open for more information at http://www.ldstorymakers.com
Sure enough, I do!
I belong to a group called LDStorymakers. We started out as an e-mail support group for LDS authors, but quickly evolved into something much larger. In 2004, we began holding conferences to teach writing to those who would like to become published authors. We all pitch in and teach classes that range from elementary to more advanced, and we have quickly gained a reputation for being the best writers conference in Utah. Our next conference is scheduled for March of 2007. You can keep your eyes open for more information at http://www.ldstorymakers.com
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Writer Tip #11 -- When Characters Won't Obey
You all know what I’m talking about. You’ve got the scene mapped out in your head. Clara is going to announce that she’s marrying Clem, and Prissy faints. You lead up to the crucial moment, and bam! Prissy stands up out of her chair and says, “Over my dead body, young lady! Now march yourself on up to your room and don’t come down until I say so! And furthermore, don’t call me Prissy anymore. I’m changing my name to Alexis.”
Or perhaps, Trixie is hiding behind Blake’s broad shoulder as he shoots at the bad guys. She’s scared and whimpering. A bullet hits Blake and he falls to the ground. Trixie stares at him, transfixed. Now the evil villains are going to capture her. They walk up to her and suddenly, she grabs Blake’s gun. “Not today, you’re not,” she says, filling the evildoers full of lead before they can touch her. She turns and climbs up the ladder of a nearby fire escape, leaps onto the roof and dashes into the night, where she will find a properly illuminated phone booth and call the police.
What do you do when a character won’t behave? We’ve all had them, those errant persons who insist on doing things their own way. We can’t ground them; we can’t send them to their rooms. So what do we do?
Well, we’ve got a couple of choices.
1. We can force Prissy to faint. We can take her by the arms and throw her down on the floor and make her stay there, probably with a foot in the small of her back so she can’t jump up and start yelling.
2. Or, we can leave her alone and see what she has to say.
I personally prefer option #2.
Most of the time, when a character leaps up and takes on a life of his own, we should let him and see where he takes us. Often, the character has a better idea for the story than we do. By giving the characters their head, we are allowing them to express themselves in a way that’s real and genuine. If we make them conform to our wishes, we often squish the life right out of the story and it becomes stiff and boring.
When I was writing Strength to Endure, I had it in my head that Anneliese would be a very naïve, docile girl, believing everything that was told her. That’s certainly not how she came out. Every time I tried to tame her, she would come up with a question or a retort or some other show of strength that I had not designed for her. Eventually I gave in and let her have her own way. I did keep her naivety, but I allowed her freedom in every other respect, and she’s a much better character because of it.
In my current Work In Progress (WIP) I gave my female character two choices of husband. I had it in my head that she would end up with #2, but she fought me tooth and nail. Every scene I wrote where she chose guy #2 was flat and unreal. Finally I relented and let her choose #1. She immediately perked up. I warned her that life would be hard with #1, but she refused to be dissuaded. She knows it’s going to be difficult, but she’s not afraid. I sighed and let her have at it.
In summary, if your characters won’t do what they’re told, sit back and listen to what they have to say. You’re probably trying to force them to do something that will kill the story. Let them guide the plot for a little while and see what happens. You’ll most likely end up with a much better book as a result.
Or perhaps, Trixie is hiding behind Blake’s broad shoulder as he shoots at the bad guys. She’s scared and whimpering. A bullet hits Blake and he falls to the ground. Trixie stares at him, transfixed. Now the evil villains are going to capture her. They walk up to her and suddenly, she grabs Blake’s gun. “Not today, you’re not,” she says, filling the evildoers full of lead before they can touch her. She turns and climbs up the ladder of a nearby fire escape, leaps onto the roof and dashes into the night, where she will find a properly illuminated phone booth and call the police.
What do you do when a character won’t behave? We’ve all had them, those errant persons who insist on doing things their own way. We can’t ground them; we can’t send them to their rooms. So what do we do?
Well, we’ve got a couple of choices.
1. We can force Prissy to faint. We can take her by the arms and throw her down on the floor and make her stay there, probably with a foot in the small of her back so she can’t jump up and start yelling.
2. Or, we can leave her alone and see what she has to say.
I personally prefer option #2.
Most of the time, when a character leaps up and takes on a life of his own, we should let him and see where he takes us. Often, the character has a better idea for the story than we do. By giving the characters their head, we are allowing them to express themselves in a way that’s real and genuine. If we make them conform to our wishes, we often squish the life right out of the story and it becomes stiff and boring.
When I was writing Strength to Endure, I had it in my head that Anneliese would be a very naïve, docile girl, believing everything that was told her. That’s certainly not how she came out. Every time I tried to tame her, she would come up with a question or a retort or some other show of strength that I had not designed for her. Eventually I gave in and let her have her own way. I did keep her naivety, but I allowed her freedom in every other respect, and she’s a much better character because of it.
In my current Work In Progress (WIP) I gave my female character two choices of husband. I had it in my head that she would end up with #2, but she fought me tooth and nail. Every scene I wrote where she chose guy #2 was flat and unreal. Finally I relented and let her choose #1. She immediately perked up. I warned her that life would be hard with #1, but she refused to be dissuaded. She knows it’s going to be difficult, but she’s not afraid. I sighed and let her have at it.
In summary, if your characters won’t do what they’re told, sit back and listen to what they have to say. You’re probably trying to force them to do something that will kill the story. Let them guide the plot for a little while and see what happens. You’ll most likely end up with a much better book as a result.
Monday, August 07, 2006
Analysis of a Book -- #1
Yesterday I picked up a novel that seemed to have a good message – life is a gift and we should not waste it. But instead of being inspired and uplifted, I got so caught up in the poor construction of the book, I couldn’t concentrate on all the beautiful truths the author was trying to present. By page 8, I was ready to return the book to the library, but then I realized it would be fun to evaluate it on my blog and give you some concrete examples of what comprises bad writing.
But then I ran into a problem. I don’t want to hurt this author’s feelings by pointing out everything he did wrong. I don’t know him personally and he’s national, not LDS, and so the chances of my meeting him are pretty slim, but authors do like to hit the Internet and Google their names to see what everyone is saying about them. Generally they’re looking for good things, not bad ones.
So, I’m not going to broadcast what book this is. I’m also going to change enough of the particulars to (hopefully) make it less recognizable and create less embarrassment for the author, including changing the characters’ names and a few words in each quote. I’ll do this any time I analyze a book. Unless, of course, an author contacts me and says, “Yes, I want to be publicly shamed. Please use my name and mention it as often as possible.”
As a side note, the characters “Libby” and “Tiffany” are grandmother and granddaughter, respectively.
With that long-winded explanatory note out of the way, let’s proceed.
1. “Here was Tiffany, balled up in her bed, her knees drawn up in a fetal position.”
This is a classic example of word redundancy. If you are in a ball, that automatically indicates that your knees are drawn up. Because of the way that our bodies are made, there is no other way to create a ball out of your body. The author should have chosen one or the other description. He did not add any new information with that long-winded description.
2. I’m making note here of all the ways the author avoids using the word “said,” giving just the speech attributions from a very long conversation.
…” Black continued.
…” Larry jumped in, nodding his agreement.
…” Black noted.
…” Larry shifted.
…” he paused.
…” Larry offered.
…” Sherry stammered defensively.
…” Larry insisted.
…” He shrugged.
…” she announced suddenly.
This is only half of the conversation. But you see what’s happening here – every single sentence ends with an unnatural speech attribution (i.e. telling who said what) There is nothing wrong with the word “said.” You don’t want to use it every time, but you also don’t want to get too creative and use everything but said. The above conversation was stiff and dull, and I spent far too much time counting how many speech attributions there were when I should have been caring what the characters were talking about.
3. “He was whispering instructions to some no-doubt-harried assistant until Black’s impatient glance caused him to close his phone.”
At the beginning of this sentence, we are envisioning the assistant standing next to him or leaning over him, receiving these whispered instructions. It’s not until the end of the sentence that we know he’s talking on the phone. The assistant suddenly poofs into thin air where they were once standing in the scene with us. This is very jolting. The author should have told us from the start of the sentence that the character was on the phone, and he should not have used the word “whispered.” You can’t whisper into a phone and have it come through properly at the other end, regardless of how good your plan is. He could have been speaking softly, but “whispering” was not a good word choice.
4. In one paragraph, the character ends his speech with “uttered simply.” In the next paragraph, the other character ends his with “uttered, hopeless.”
“Uttered” is a word you want to use carefully. Again, it’s another tack to keep from using “said” too much, but “utter” is an unusual word. You can probably get away with it once per book or once every other book, but not twice in the same book, and most certainly not in two paragraphs so close together.
5. Larry writes a check and then the narrative reads, “His wife would breathe a sigh of relief that the buck had been passed.”
This is a very unfortunate choice of words. “Passing the buck” does not mean handing money to someone. It means handing responsibility or blame for a situation over to someone. By using this phrase right after the character writes a check and gives it to someone, the author is either a) unaware of his blunder b) unaware of the true definition of the phrase but most certainly c) making himself look unprofessional by using words that sound really corny and like a bad play on words (buck = money)
6. “She took the check and put it in her pocketbook with a snap.”
This sentence reads funny. Did she say “snap” when she closed the pocketbook? Is there a snap in the pocketbook and she put the check next to it? Because the sentence starts with “She,” we are going to assume that everything else that happens in the sentence relates directly to her, but the “snap” is a sound made by the purse, not her. The author should have said, “with a snap of the clasp,” which clearly shifts the subject to the purse and the noise it makes.
7. “… face of a homeless man encased in a sleeping bag, drinking from a bottle in a paper bag . .”
Again, an unfortunate sentence. Here we have a face that is encased in a sleeping bag. Do you get, like I do, the mental picture of someone in a sleeping bag, who has gathered it up around his head, so that only his face is sticking out? If you do, can you explain to me how he is holding the bottle in the paper bag? Where are his arms? Well, they’re inside the sleeping bag, of course. In addition, it’s not just the face that’s doing the drinking, although the sentence reads that way. No mention is made of the man as a whole, just his face. So we’ve got a disembodied face, drinking from a bottle that’s floating in midair?
8. “As the driver removed their bags from the trunk, Libby offered him a nice tip to take them up the steps.”
From a strictly grammatical viewpoint, it’s difficult to say why this sentence confused me. The “them” was not clearly defined with a noun, at least, to my mind. For a split second I was seeing the driver taking Libby and Tiffany up the stairs. I would completely switch this sentence around and say, “Libby offered the driver a nice tip to take the bags upstairs when he lifted them out of the trunk.” Or, even better . . .
The driver lifted the first bag out of the trunk and set it on the ground. The loose gravel crunched beneath the weight of what could only be books. Libby reached out and tried to pick the bag, willing herself to have the strength, but her positive thinking didn’t work.
“Too heavy,” she gasped. The driver set the second suitcase down with ease.
“Would you carry these bags inside for me?” Libby asked, straightening her back. “I’ll give you a nice tip.”
See how we went from telling to showing?
9. “Libby helped Tiffany unroll and prepare the sofa bed.”
Is that like helping someone unwind at the end of a long day? Why was Tiffany rolled up, and how did Libby help her unroll? Of course the author means that the sofa bed was rolled up, but when you have an “and,” you want everything before the “and” to make sense and everything after the “and” to make sense, and this sentence clearly does not.
10. “She fell into a fitful sleep.”
There’s nothing wrong with this sentence grammatically or plot-wise, but it happens to be one of the most overused phrases in fiction. That and “fitful slumber.” And wouldn’t you know, the next thing we have is that she’s waking up with a start. Another very overused phrase, and here they are back to back. Poor girl; she went to sleep and woke up on a cliché. Very uncomfortable.
11. Without quoting too much actual text, let me summarize the scene: Tiffany is teaching Libby how to swear. The dialogue as written is very funny, but the author keeps inserting adverbs into the narrative like “wryly” and descriptions like “eyes twinkling.” This whole scene reminds me of how stand-comedians used to have a set of drums behind them and every time they’d make a joke, they’d get a background drum roll and crash of cymbals as if to say, “That was a joke! Get it? Get it?” In a scene of this nature, the dialogue should stand on its own. It’s funny dialogue. We don’t need the author hovering over us, saying, “See? She spoke wryly and her eyes are twinkling. It was a joke. Get it? Get it?”
12. “She observed the life teeming around her.”
Again, a very overused phrase. “Life teeming” and “teeming with life” -- avoid both of these at all costs. There are so many other ways to phrase things – find them.
13. “Tiffany looked up at him, his eyes pleading.”
Did Tiffany have a sex change operation halfway through that sentence? How are his eyes pleading when Tiffany is a girl? Okay, when we think about it, we can tell that she looked up at him and saw that his eyes were pleading, but that’s not how the sentence reads. When you have a comma like that, you’re expecting everything in that sentence to be about Tiffany. It would be much better to say, “Tiffany looked up at him, at the way his eyes were pleading” or “Tiffany looked up at him and noticed his eyes were pleading” or “noticed the pleading in his eyes.”
14. “The two of them would often press their heads close together on the edge of the bed at night, delighting in the playback of sights and moments Tiffany had captured that day on her Camcorder.”
This sentence is wrong on many, many levels. When you first start reading it, you’re picturing them pressing their heads together on the edge of the bed. Why are they doing that? Is it some sort of bonding ritual? Will their foreheads stick if they hold them together long enough? By the time you reach the end of the sentence, you understand that they are sitting on the edge of the bed, watching the replay on the Camcorder, and because the screen is small, they have to lean their heads toward each other so they can both see. Well, why didn’t the author just say that? Why leave the explanation of what they’re doing clear until the end of the sentence, and why make it so muddled? And let’s show it, not tell it. How about this . . .
“Come here,” Tiffany said, patting the bed beside her. “I want to show you something.”
Libby took the offered seat as Tiffany punched a few buttons on her Camcorder.
“Oh, there’s me standing on the dock,” Libby said. “The screen is so small, though; it’s hard to see.”
“Put your head close to mine,” Tiffany said. “We can watch together.”
Now, doesn’t that make a lot more sense?
15. A little bit later on, Libby is remembering how she and her husband had been to this spot before, and we get a little flashback. Then the narrative shifts to things that she and Tiffany were doing together at that moment, and there is no clear definition of the end of her flashback and return to present day. We go from “her husband had insisted that just for one evening, they enjoy themselves.” Next paragraph: “They spent the day . . .” “They” refers to Tiffany and Libby, but we don’t know that until halfway down the paragraph. We think we’re still talking about Libby and her husband. The author should have made that shift much more obvious.
16. And then again with another comical conversation, but the author just can’t keep his hands off it. He’s inserting words like “she deadpanned” and “they all laughed hysterically.” The author should not have to point out to the reader that they have just heard a joke. If he has to tell them to feel amused, he should either delete the joke or completely rewrite it, because it’s not working.
Overall, I enjoyed the message of the book and came to care for the characters. I just wish that this author had studied his craft more carefully, edited himself more stringently, and demanded more of himself. A powerful story needs, and deserves, to be told powerfully.
Hope this was helpful.
But then I ran into a problem. I don’t want to hurt this author’s feelings by pointing out everything he did wrong. I don’t know him personally and he’s national, not LDS, and so the chances of my meeting him are pretty slim, but authors do like to hit the Internet and Google their names to see what everyone is saying about them. Generally they’re looking for good things, not bad ones.
So, I’m not going to broadcast what book this is. I’m also going to change enough of the particulars to (hopefully) make it less recognizable and create less embarrassment for the author, including changing the characters’ names and a few words in each quote. I’ll do this any time I analyze a book. Unless, of course, an author contacts me and says, “Yes, I want to be publicly shamed. Please use my name and mention it as often as possible.”
As a side note, the characters “Libby” and “Tiffany” are grandmother and granddaughter, respectively.
With that long-winded explanatory note out of the way, let’s proceed.
1. “Here was Tiffany, balled up in her bed, her knees drawn up in a fetal position.”
This is a classic example of word redundancy. If you are in a ball, that automatically indicates that your knees are drawn up. Because of the way that our bodies are made, there is no other way to create a ball out of your body. The author should have chosen one or the other description. He did not add any new information with that long-winded description.
2. I’m making note here of all the ways the author avoids using the word “said,” giving just the speech attributions from a very long conversation.
…” Black continued.
…” Larry jumped in, nodding his agreement.
…” Black noted.
…” Larry shifted.
…” he paused.
…” Larry offered.
…” Sherry stammered defensively.
…” Larry insisted.
…” He shrugged.
…” she announced suddenly.
This is only half of the conversation. But you see what’s happening here – every single sentence ends with an unnatural speech attribution (i.e. telling who said what) There is nothing wrong with the word “said.” You don’t want to use it every time, but you also don’t want to get too creative and use everything but said. The above conversation was stiff and dull, and I spent far too much time counting how many speech attributions there were when I should have been caring what the characters were talking about.
3. “He was whispering instructions to some no-doubt-harried assistant until Black’s impatient glance caused him to close his phone.”
At the beginning of this sentence, we are envisioning the assistant standing next to him or leaning over him, receiving these whispered instructions. It’s not until the end of the sentence that we know he’s talking on the phone. The assistant suddenly poofs into thin air where they were once standing in the scene with us. This is very jolting. The author should have told us from the start of the sentence that the character was on the phone, and he should not have used the word “whispered.” You can’t whisper into a phone and have it come through properly at the other end, regardless of how good your plan is. He could have been speaking softly, but “whispering” was not a good word choice.
4. In one paragraph, the character ends his speech with “uttered simply.” In the next paragraph, the other character ends his with “uttered, hopeless.”
“Uttered” is a word you want to use carefully. Again, it’s another tack to keep from using “said” too much, but “utter” is an unusual word. You can probably get away with it once per book or once every other book, but not twice in the same book, and most certainly not in two paragraphs so close together.
5. Larry writes a check and then the narrative reads, “His wife would breathe a sigh of relief that the buck had been passed.”
This is a very unfortunate choice of words. “Passing the buck” does not mean handing money to someone. It means handing responsibility or blame for a situation over to someone. By using this phrase right after the character writes a check and gives it to someone, the author is either a) unaware of his blunder b) unaware of the true definition of the phrase but most certainly c) making himself look unprofessional by using words that sound really corny and like a bad play on words (buck = money)
6. “She took the check and put it in her pocketbook with a snap.”
This sentence reads funny. Did she say “snap” when she closed the pocketbook? Is there a snap in the pocketbook and she put the check next to it? Because the sentence starts with “She,” we are going to assume that everything else that happens in the sentence relates directly to her, but the “snap” is a sound made by the purse, not her. The author should have said, “with a snap of the clasp,” which clearly shifts the subject to the purse and the noise it makes.
7. “… face of a homeless man encased in a sleeping bag, drinking from a bottle in a paper bag . .”
Again, an unfortunate sentence. Here we have a face that is encased in a sleeping bag. Do you get, like I do, the mental picture of someone in a sleeping bag, who has gathered it up around his head, so that only his face is sticking out? If you do, can you explain to me how he is holding the bottle in the paper bag? Where are his arms? Well, they’re inside the sleeping bag, of course. In addition, it’s not just the face that’s doing the drinking, although the sentence reads that way. No mention is made of the man as a whole, just his face. So we’ve got a disembodied face, drinking from a bottle that’s floating in midair?
8. “As the driver removed their bags from the trunk, Libby offered him a nice tip to take them up the steps.”
From a strictly grammatical viewpoint, it’s difficult to say why this sentence confused me. The “them” was not clearly defined with a noun, at least, to my mind. For a split second I was seeing the driver taking Libby and Tiffany up the stairs. I would completely switch this sentence around and say, “Libby offered the driver a nice tip to take the bags upstairs when he lifted them out of the trunk.” Or, even better . . .
The driver lifted the first bag out of the trunk and set it on the ground. The loose gravel crunched beneath the weight of what could only be books. Libby reached out and tried to pick the bag, willing herself to have the strength, but her positive thinking didn’t work.
“Too heavy,” she gasped. The driver set the second suitcase down with ease.
“Would you carry these bags inside for me?” Libby asked, straightening her back. “I’ll give you a nice tip.”
See how we went from telling to showing?
9. “Libby helped Tiffany unroll and prepare the sofa bed.”
Is that like helping someone unwind at the end of a long day? Why was Tiffany rolled up, and how did Libby help her unroll? Of course the author means that the sofa bed was rolled up, but when you have an “and,” you want everything before the “and” to make sense and everything after the “and” to make sense, and this sentence clearly does not.
10. “She fell into a fitful sleep.”
There’s nothing wrong with this sentence grammatically or plot-wise, but it happens to be one of the most overused phrases in fiction. That and “fitful slumber.” And wouldn’t you know, the next thing we have is that she’s waking up with a start. Another very overused phrase, and here they are back to back. Poor girl; she went to sleep and woke up on a cliché. Very uncomfortable.
11. Without quoting too much actual text, let me summarize the scene: Tiffany is teaching Libby how to swear. The dialogue as written is very funny, but the author keeps inserting adverbs into the narrative like “wryly” and descriptions like “eyes twinkling.” This whole scene reminds me of how stand-comedians used to have a set of drums behind them and every time they’d make a joke, they’d get a background drum roll and crash of cymbals as if to say, “That was a joke! Get it? Get it?” In a scene of this nature, the dialogue should stand on its own. It’s funny dialogue. We don’t need the author hovering over us, saying, “See? She spoke wryly and her eyes are twinkling. It was a joke. Get it? Get it?”
12. “She observed the life teeming around her.”
Again, a very overused phrase. “Life teeming” and “teeming with life” -- avoid both of these at all costs. There are so many other ways to phrase things – find them.
13. “Tiffany looked up at him, his eyes pleading.”
Did Tiffany have a sex change operation halfway through that sentence? How are his eyes pleading when Tiffany is a girl? Okay, when we think about it, we can tell that she looked up at him and saw that his eyes were pleading, but that’s not how the sentence reads. When you have a comma like that, you’re expecting everything in that sentence to be about Tiffany. It would be much better to say, “Tiffany looked up at him, at the way his eyes were pleading” or “Tiffany looked up at him and noticed his eyes were pleading” or “noticed the pleading in his eyes.”
14. “The two of them would often press their heads close together on the edge of the bed at night, delighting in the playback of sights and moments Tiffany had captured that day on her Camcorder.”
This sentence is wrong on many, many levels. When you first start reading it, you’re picturing them pressing their heads together on the edge of the bed. Why are they doing that? Is it some sort of bonding ritual? Will their foreheads stick if they hold them together long enough? By the time you reach the end of the sentence, you understand that they are sitting on the edge of the bed, watching the replay on the Camcorder, and because the screen is small, they have to lean their heads toward each other so they can both see. Well, why didn’t the author just say that? Why leave the explanation of what they’re doing clear until the end of the sentence, and why make it so muddled? And let’s show it, not tell it. How about this . . .
“Come here,” Tiffany said, patting the bed beside her. “I want to show you something.”
Libby took the offered seat as Tiffany punched a few buttons on her Camcorder.
“Oh, there’s me standing on the dock,” Libby said. “The screen is so small, though; it’s hard to see.”
“Put your head close to mine,” Tiffany said. “We can watch together.”
Now, doesn’t that make a lot more sense?
15. A little bit later on, Libby is remembering how she and her husband had been to this spot before, and we get a little flashback. Then the narrative shifts to things that she and Tiffany were doing together at that moment, and there is no clear definition of the end of her flashback and return to present day. We go from “her husband had insisted that just for one evening, they enjoy themselves.” Next paragraph: “They spent the day . . .” “They” refers to Tiffany and Libby, but we don’t know that until halfway down the paragraph. We think we’re still talking about Libby and her husband. The author should have made that shift much more obvious.
16. And then again with another comical conversation, but the author just can’t keep his hands off it. He’s inserting words like “she deadpanned” and “they all laughed hysterically.” The author should not have to point out to the reader that they have just heard a joke. If he has to tell them to feel amused, he should either delete the joke or completely rewrite it, because it’s not working.
Overall, I enjoyed the message of the book and came to care for the characters. I just wish that this author had studied his craft more carefully, edited himself more stringently, and demanded more of himself. A powerful story needs, and deserves, to be told powerfully.
Hope this was helpful.
Friday, August 04, 2006
I'm a Mormon, Yes, I Am!
I've just spent the last little while on the Internet looking for blogs by other LDS authors. While I found some, I also came across a lot of Mormon bashing. It's a free country; everyone is entitled to say what they want. Some have had bad experiences with the Church, which is unfortunate. Many are bashing the church without really knowing much about it at all. They all have the right to their say, and luckily, so do I.
I'm a Mormon. Born and raised, through and through, you bet. And I wasn't conned into it or lured into it or trapped by it or anything like that. As I grew older, the choice was given to me whether or not I wanted to follow the teachings, and I chose yes. In fact, that choice is given to me every single day. I can decide for myself every single day whether I believe it or not. No one is forcing me to be a Mormon. I chose it myself, willingly and wholeheartedly.
And why? Because I believe it to be true. Not because I was brainwashed or beaten into submission or threatened or drugged; because the teachings of the church resonate with truth within me. It speaks to my soul as being the word of God.
I'll tell you another little secret -- I'm not a cowed woman. I'm an author. I own my own bath and beauty business. I have a mind and a voice and I use them both. I leave my house and go out and do things I want to do. My husband does not lord over me with a whip. We act as a partnership, giving and taking equally. He's not my boss, and I'm not his.
It's true that there are those who do feel browbeaten and forced to stay in the church. That's not the real church. Any person who is using force to keep someone else from leaving the church is not practicing the religion properly. The real Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is nothing like that, and I am proud, honored and delighted to announce that I'm a Mormon. Yes, I am!
I'm a Mormon. Born and raised, through and through, you bet. And I wasn't conned into it or lured into it or trapped by it or anything like that. As I grew older, the choice was given to me whether or not I wanted to follow the teachings, and I chose yes. In fact, that choice is given to me every single day. I can decide for myself every single day whether I believe it or not. No one is forcing me to be a Mormon. I chose it myself, willingly and wholeheartedly.
And why? Because I believe it to be true. Not because I was brainwashed or beaten into submission or threatened or drugged; because the teachings of the church resonate with truth within me. It speaks to my soul as being the word of God.
I'll tell you another little secret -- I'm not a cowed woman. I'm an author. I own my own bath and beauty business. I have a mind and a voice and I use them both. I leave my house and go out and do things I want to do. My husband does not lord over me with a whip. We act as a partnership, giving and taking equally. He's not my boss, and I'm not his.
It's true that there are those who do feel browbeaten and forced to stay in the church. That's not the real church. Any person who is using force to keep someone else from leaving the church is not practicing the religion properly. The real Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is nothing like that, and I am proud, honored and delighted to announce that I'm a Mormon. Yes, I am!
I Don't Really Write This Way
I’ve written several blogs now and used many examples of character speech, plot lines, etc. While finishing up the last one, I had the most horrid thought: What if you think I really write this way, and are determined never to read a single one of my books?
Lest this perception prevail a moment longer, let me interrupt myself and assure you that no, I do not write my books in the way I write the examples for my blogs. The blogs are written a little over the top so as to adequately express my point. If the examples are larger than life, you can see the principle clearly and then translate them into an everyday situation with ease. I’m not going to be vague and ambiguous for fear that you’ll misunderstand what I’m saying.
There is a lot of power in a bad example. If the ones I’m giving you make you recoil in disgust, my job here is done. I find I actually enjoy writing bad examples. (You’ll find plenty of evidence of this in LDStorymakers: Publishing Secrets and LDStorymakers: Writing Secrets) It’s comic relief for me.
So never you fear – my books are actually intelligent and thoughtful. The goofy examples are for teaching purposes only.
Having made this disclaimer, I will now leave you and trust that you’ll not think any the less of me because of Grandpa Hank’s eccentricities.
Lest this perception prevail a moment longer, let me interrupt myself and assure you that no, I do not write my books in the way I write the examples for my blogs. The blogs are written a little over the top so as to adequately express my point. If the examples are larger than life, you can see the principle clearly and then translate them into an everyday situation with ease. I’m not going to be vague and ambiguous for fear that you’ll misunderstand what I’m saying.
There is a lot of power in a bad example. If the ones I’m giving you make you recoil in disgust, my job here is done. I find I actually enjoy writing bad examples. (You’ll find plenty of evidence of this in LDStorymakers: Publishing Secrets and LDStorymakers: Writing Secrets) It’s comic relief for me.
So never you fear – my books are actually intelligent and thoughtful. The goofy examples are for teaching purposes only.
Having made this disclaimer, I will now leave you and trust that you’ll not think any the less of me because of Grandpa Hank’s eccentricities.
Writer Tip #10 -- Go With The Flow
Every so often, I hit a groove and I type away, the words flowing from me like chocolate in a fountain. Everything is falling into place, the dialogue is working, and I’m on top of the world. But then I introduce a new character, and I don’t have a good name for him yet. Or I need the date 9/11 happened. (Just kidding – but I do need a historical date) Or I need to know which side fired first at Gettysburg.
I have a choice.
I can stop writing and look up the information or think of a name for the character. Or I can move on and leave a blank space, coming back to fill it in later. For the most part, I choose the latter.
Why?
Writing flows come rarely for me. Uninterrupted time when I can sit and just be at one with the computer is a precious commodity. Most of the time, I have children at my elbow or a ringing telephone, someone’s at the door or I have children at my elbow. (I know I already said that but with four children, it happens a lot) When I write late at night, I have a snoring husband in the room and I’m so tired I’m about to pass out. The golden moments of uninterrupted creation are few and far between and I don’t want to waste them.
So, I insert a symbol. A @, a $, or a % work well because these aren’t symbols I generally use while writing. I pop one of those puppies in and I keep writing. Then, later, I’ll do a search and put in whatever symbol I’ve chosen to use. The computer will pop me from place to place and I can then do the necessary research to put in the right day or the proper rank of the visiting soldier or the name of the maid or what-have-you. It’s a tip I picked up from my LDStorymaker friends and let me say, it has saved me a lot of time.
I used to be a little more ambiguous. I would name my characters things like Girl and Boy, Dude, Maid, Postman, and other things like that. Or I would put “He said something romantic” when I couldn’t think of just what it was I wanted him to say. But using a symbol makes it much easier to find, because it pops off the screen at you. Now my writing is more apt to look something like this:
Annie came into the room and saw $ sitting on the floor. “What are you doing down there?”
$ jumped up and brushed off his trousers. “I was trying to fix the heater, but I need a % or it won’t work properly.”
“Are you sure that will fix it?”
$ @says something funny – think of it later@
I keep a little notebook right next to me as I’m typing and just make notes of the symbols I’ve used. I then go on and can freely build up the approach of the mailman who is carrying the Anthrax-laden letter. $ is going to open it and . . . oops! I shouldn’t give too much away!
In summary, a writer’s flow is precious. Don’t waste it on the little details. Get the main picture down while it’s clear in your mind and then go back. You’ll be so glad you did.
I have a choice.
I can stop writing and look up the information or think of a name for the character. Or I can move on and leave a blank space, coming back to fill it in later. For the most part, I choose the latter.
Why?
Writing flows come rarely for me. Uninterrupted time when I can sit and just be at one with the computer is a precious commodity. Most of the time, I have children at my elbow or a ringing telephone, someone’s at the door or I have children at my elbow. (I know I already said that but with four children, it happens a lot) When I write late at night, I have a snoring husband in the room and I’m so tired I’m about to pass out. The golden moments of uninterrupted creation are few and far between and I don’t want to waste them.
So, I insert a symbol. A @, a $, or a % work well because these aren’t symbols I generally use while writing. I pop one of those puppies in and I keep writing. Then, later, I’ll do a search and put in whatever symbol I’ve chosen to use. The computer will pop me from place to place and I can then do the necessary research to put in the right day or the proper rank of the visiting soldier or the name of the maid or what-have-you. It’s a tip I picked up from my LDStorymaker friends and let me say, it has saved me a lot of time.
I used to be a little more ambiguous. I would name my characters things like Girl and Boy, Dude, Maid, Postman, and other things like that. Or I would put “He said something romantic” when I couldn’t think of just what it was I wanted him to say. But using a symbol makes it much easier to find, because it pops off the screen at you. Now my writing is more apt to look something like this:
Annie came into the room and saw $ sitting on the floor. “What are you doing down there?”
$ jumped up and brushed off his trousers. “I was trying to fix the heater, but I need a % or it won’t work properly.”
“Are you sure that will fix it?”
$ @says something funny – think of it later@
I keep a little notebook right next to me as I’m typing and just make notes of the symbols I’ve used. I then go on and can freely build up the approach of the mailman who is carrying the Anthrax-laden letter. $ is going to open it and . . . oops! I shouldn’t give too much away!
In summary, a writer’s flow is precious. Don’t waste it on the little details. Get the main picture down while it’s clear in your mind and then go back. You’ll be so glad you did.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Writer Tip #9 -- The Dreadful, Dreaded Adverb
Jordan quickly ran across the floor, deftly taking the safety off his gun. He paused suddenly and swiftly dropped to the ground, carefully bringing his gun up to eye level. He could now plainly see the leader of the mob, the portly Mr. Mafioso, as he surreptitiously held out a suitcase to a figure that mysteriously stayed in the shadows. Jordan blinked rapidly as he saw the ring that adorned the hand that femininely took the suitcase. He knew that ring. He bought that ring. It was Adrianna!
I’m not an adverb purist in the sense that I will never use one. I think they’re just fine, in moderation. I also think that if you can rephrase the sentence so the adverb is eliminated, more power to you. But as we can see in the example above, adverbs can be very overused. And they are, most of the time.
The trouble with adverbs is that often, they are used as the easy way out. If you can’t think of a way to describe the character running quickly, just say quickly and be done with it. But far too often, the easy way becomes the only way, and the overuse of adverbs shows the author to be lazy and unimaginative.
Let’s revisit the scene above. With a bit of tweaking, I think we can make it much better.
Jordan’s breath came in spurts as he raced across the floor, taking the safety off his gun with practiced fingers. He came to an abrupt halt at a sound up ahead and dropped to the ground. He brought the gun up to eye level, hoping he wouldn’t have to use it.
He got his first full look at the rotund Mr. Mafioso as the leader of the mob held out a suitcase to a figure who remained hidden in the shadows. The hand that reached out to grasp the handle was feminine, and Jordan caught a glimpse of light reflected from the ring she wore. He knew that ring. He bought that ring. It was Adrianna!
You’ll notice that I took out all the adverbs, and instead used more immediate action words. I also inserted more emotion to give the impression of tension without saying “tensely.” The passage still isn’t perfect; it needs a good edit, but we can already see that it’s better.
I challenge you to go through your current manuscript and remove as many adverbs as you can. You shouldn’t stand on your head to keep from using one if it would require major reworking, but if you can substitute a better word or series of words, do it. You’ll show your command of the English language to better advantage and give yourself the mark of a seasoned professional.
In summary, if you can get rid of an adverb, do it. Rephrasing can often bring the scene more life and vitality, as well as making it more interesting. You’ll be regarded as more of a professional when you eliminate your adverbs and make your word choices more creative.
I’m not an adverb purist in the sense that I will never use one. I think they’re just fine, in moderation. I also think that if you can rephrase the sentence so the adverb is eliminated, more power to you. But as we can see in the example above, adverbs can be very overused. And they are, most of the time.
The trouble with adverbs is that often, they are used as the easy way out. If you can’t think of a way to describe the character running quickly, just say quickly and be done with it. But far too often, the easy way becomes the only way, and the overuse of adverbs shows the author to be lazy and unimaginative.
Let’s revisit the scene above. With a bit of tweaking, I think we can make it much better.
Jordan’s breath came in spurts as he raced across the floor, taking the safety off his gun with practiced fingers. He came to an abrupt halt at a sound up ahead and dropped to the ground. He brought the gun up to eye level, hoping he wouldn’t have to use it.
He got his first full look at the rotund Mr. Mafioso as the leader of the mob held out a suitcase to a figure who remained hidden in the shadows. The hand that reached out to grasp the handle was feminine, and Jordan caught a glimpse of light reflected from the ring she wore. He knew that ring. He bought that ring. It was Adrianna!
You’ll notice that I took out all the adverbs, and instead used more immediate action words. I also inserted more emotion to give the impression of tension without saying “tensely.” The passage still isn’t perfect; it needs a good edit, but we can already see that it’s better.
I challenge you to go through your current manuscript and remove as many adverbs as you can. You shouldn’t stand on your head to keep from using one if it would require major reworking, but if you can substitute a better word or series of words, do it. You’ll show your command of the English language to better advantage and give yourself the mark of a seasoned professional.
In summary, if you can get rid of an adverb, do it. Rephrasing can often bring the scene more life and vitality, as well as making it more interesting. You’ll be regarded as more of a professional when you eliminate your adverbs and make your word choices more creative.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Writer Tip #8 -- Staying in Character
Eloise is a very proper young lady. Her clothes are always ironed, her shoes are buffed. She has never sworn in her life. She sits in the front row at Young Women’s and takes notes during Sacrament meeting. She volunteers at the retirement center.
It’s after midnight on Friday night and Eloise is still not home. “I wonder where she could be,” Mother frets with a glance at the clock.
“She’ll be home soon,” Father says. “It’s not like her to be this late.”
Fifteen minutes later, Eloise comes bursting in, hair awry, shoes dirty. “I hate my life!” she yells, swearing as she runs up the hall to her room.
We have just broken character for Eloise. Everything we know about her has just been shattered. And now we need to know the reason why.
I recently read a novel (I’m not going to name names) where a character acted out of her norm, her sister was surprised to see her act that way, and no explanation whatsoever was given. You cannot have a character step out of their molds so completely without providing the reason why.
As humans, we all have our patterns and our set ways of acting. I’m sure you’ve heard someone say, “Oh, he would never do that.” By our past actions, we show what we will and will not do in the future. We do stray from that occasionally. It’s our right to be different, to shake things up a little bit. Your character has that right too. But it must always be accompanied by a reason. Not on the same page, generally, but always by the end of the book.
I actually won a game of Sardines by stepping out of my character. About twelve years ago, a group of friends and I obtained permission to play Hide and Go Seek in the Orem library after hours. We turned off the lights (spooky!) and took turns hiding. For those of you unfortunate souls who don’t know how to play Sardines, rather than everyone hiding and one person seeking, one person hides and everyone else seeks. Then, when you find the person you’re looking for, you squeeze in with them, and the last person to find the group loses.
Well, it was my turn to hide and I wanted it to be really good. The others had already gotten me and I wanted to get them back. I decided to hide in the men’s room.
I scooted myself under the sink (I was skinnier then) and waited. And waited. And waited. I could hear voices out in the hall. They were perplexed. Where had Tristi gone?
Finally one of the guys in the group came in to use the bathroom. “I’m in here,” I said softly as soon as he came in. (It was just better that way) He sat down next to me and we waited.
Soon we heard a voice outside. “Where’s Steve?”
“He went into the bathroom ages ago and he didn’t come out.”
“You don’t think Tristi’s in there, do you?”
“No,” came the sure voice of my best friend. “Tristi would never hide in a men’s room.”
Ten minutes went past and finally the voices returned. “Steve hasn’t come out. Tristi must be in there.”
“I’ll go in,” said a volunteer.
He came in, saw our shadows, and took a seat.
“He didn’t come out,” said the voices.
One by one, the guys came in to check. I was now sitting in the dark, in a men’s room, with four guys.
“Okay, we give,” came a girly voice from the hall. “We’re not coming in there.”
I emerged, having been proclaimed the champ. I had been found, but because the girls wouldn’t come hide with me, I won by default.
“I never thought you’d hide in there,” my best friend said. “That was a great hiding place.”
“And now if you’ll excuse me,” Steve said, his face a little red, “I went in there for a reason.” He disappeared behind the swinging door once again.
Breaking character can be fun.
Decide how your character will act, and then make them stick to it. If you have George acting like Mary and Dan acting like Gordon, your reader starts to feel unsettled. They don’t know if they can trust these characters. It’s not a conscious distrust, but it exists nonetheless.
In summary, keep your characters in their character until there’s a reason to break it. Make sure to explain that reason by the end of the book. It ties up the loose ends and makes things much more clear to the reader. It also gives the reader a sense of “knowing” the character, which leads to them liking the character. And that’s a good thing.
It’s after midnight on Friday night and Eloise is still not home. “I wonder where she could be,” Mother frets with a glance at the clock.
“She’ll be home soon,” Father says. “It’s not like her to be this late.”
Fifteen minutes later, Eloise comes bursting in, hair awry, shoes dirty. “I hate my life!” she yells, swearing as she runs up the hall to her room.
We have just broken character for Eloise. Everything we know about her has just been shattered. And now we need to know the reason why.
I recently read a novel (I’m not going to name names) where a character acted out of her norm, her sister was surprised to see her act that way, and no explanation whatsoever was given. You cannot have a character step out of their molds so completely without providing the reason why.
As humans, we all have our patterns and our set ways of acting. I’m sure you’ve heard someone say, “Oh, he would never do that.” By our past actions, we show what we will and will not do in the future. We do stray from that occasionally. It’s our right to be different, to shake things up a little bit. Your character has that right too. But it must always be accompanied by a reason. Not on the same page, generally, but always by the end of the book.
I actually won a game of Sardines by stepping out of my character. About twelve years ago, a group of friends and I obtained permission to play Hide and Go Seek in the Orem library after hours. We turned off the lights (spooky!) and took turns hiding. For those of you unfortunate souls who don’t know how to play Sardines, rather than everyone hiding and one person seeking, one person hides and everyone else seeks. Then, when you find the person you’re looking for, you squeeze in with them, and the last person to find the group loses.
Well, it was my turn to hide and I wanted it to be really good. The others had already gotten me and I wanted to get them back. I decided to hide in the men’s room.
I scooted myself under the sink (I was skinnier then) and waited. And waited. And waited. I could hear voices out in the hall. They were perplexed. Where had Tristi gone?
Finally one of the guys in the group came in to use the bathroom. “I’m in here,” I said softly as soon as he came in. (It was just better that way) He sat down next to me and we waited.
Soon we heard a voice outside. “Where’s Steve?”
“He went into the bathroom ages ago and he didn’t come out.”
“You don’t think Tristi’s in there, do you?”
“No,” came the sure voice of my best friend. “Tristi would never hide in a men’s room.”
Ten minutes went past and finally the voices returned. “Steve hasn’t come out. Tristi must be in there.”
“I’ll go in,” said a volunteer.
He came in, saw our shadows, and took a seat.
“He didn’t come out,” said the voices.
One by one, the guys came in to check. I was now sitting in the dark, in a men’s room, with four guys.
“Okay, we give,” came a girly voice from the hall. “We’re not coming in there.”
I emerged, having been proclaimed the champ. I had been found, but because the girls wouldn’t come hide with me, I won by default.
“I never thought you’d hide in there,” my best friend said. “That was a great hiding place.”
“And now if you’ll excuse me,” Steve said, his face a little red, “I went in there for a reason.” He disappeared behind the swinging door once again.
Breaking character can be fun.
Decide how your character will act, and then make them stick to it. If you have George acting like Mary and Dan acting like Gordon, your reader starts to feel unsettled. They don’t know if they can trust these characters. It’s not a conscious distrust, but it exists nonetheless.
In summary, keep your characters in their character until there’s a reason to break it. Make sure to explain that reason by the end of the book. It ties up the loose ends and makes things much more clear to the reader. It also gives the reader a sense of “knowing” the character, which leads to them liking the character. And that’s a good thing.
Writer Tip #7 - Creating Character Voice
Creating a character’s voice is different from finding your own personal voice, which we’ll discuss in another blog. Instead, it’s the unique way each character has of speaking that is special to them and gives them depth and life within your story.
I’m sure you’ve noticed as you go through the day that everyone you talk to has their own flavor, their own way of stringing words together. Have you ever read an e-mail from a good friend and said to yourself, “That sounds just like her!” We are all different from each other as human beings and part of expressing that individuality is how we communicate. Your characters are people too, aren’t they? They need that opportunity as well.
If all your characters “sounded” the same, your book would be flat and dull. By injecting a bit of life into their words, your characters can become three-dimensional and real to the reader.
It could be something as simple as the way Aunt Betty would rather die than use a contraction. “I will go to the store,” she says, pulling on her crisp white gloves. “I will buy a cantaloupe.” No “I’ll” for her – she considers it the worst mark of poor breeding.
Grandpa Hank (on the other side of the family) prefers to express himself outlandishly. No common clichés for him! “I’m more tickled than a nostril in a featherbed factory,” he pronounces upon hearing good news.
Gertie has a nervous habit of giggling. Annie ends every question with, “Okay?” Bobby likes to say, “Holy smokes!”
The same can be said for mannerisms. Perhaps Cindy twirls her hair on her finger or Joey snorts when he laughs.
I realize these examples are a little out there, but I’m making the point very obvious so you can then translate it into the more subtle. Search for a tone for each of your characters. Your younger characters would use more simple language than an adult. A professor would use longer words than a character who didn’t graduate from high school. (This is not to say that you should make your character sound like a backwoods hick because they didn’t have the same opportunity for education; this is just to say that you can help show a character’s background by the way they talk.) Paul West wrote a great blog on this topic at (link here)
As you do this, keep in mind that it can easily be overdone. If Grandpa Hank burst in on every conversation with a “The store was more crowded than a Greyhound bus full of turkeys the day before Thanksgiving” or “It’s hotter than the backside of a pig cozying up to a fire on a spit,” he could easily overtake the whole book. If Gertie giggles on every single page, forget the dead body under the stairs – before long, it will be Gertie who sees her demise.
In summary, choose your characteristics wisely. Insert them judiciously. Sprinkle them in as needed to establish the tone of the conversation. Remember – Gertie giggles, not Grandpa Hank. If he starts to giggle, you confuse the reader because they’ve got him pigeon-holed and they know what he’s supposed to be doing. Oh, and if Grandpa’s giggling, you might want to check the expiration date on the apple juice. He’s got more hiccups than the frog that swallowed a bouncing basketball at the 4th of July picnic.
I’m sure you’ve noticed as you go through the day that everyone you talk to has their own flavor, their own way of stringing words together. Have you ever read an e-mail from a good friend and said to yourself, “That sounds just like her!” We are all different from each other as human beings and part of expressing that individuality is how we communicate. Your characters are people too, aren’t they? They need that opportunity as well.
If all your characters “sounded” the same, your book would be flat and dull. By injecting a bit of life into their words, your characters can become three-dimensional and real to the reader.
It could be something as simple as the way Aunt Betty would rather die than use a contraction. “I will go to the store,” she says, pulling on her crisp white gloves. “I will buy a cantaloupe.” No “I’ll” for her – she considers it the worst mark of poor breeding.
Grandpa Hank (on the other side of the family) prefers to express himself outlandishly. No common clichés for him! “I’m more tickled than a nostril in a featherbed factory,” he pronounces upon hearing good news.
Gertie has a nervous habit of giggling. Annie ends every question with, “Okay?” Bobby likes to say, “Holy smokes!”
The same can be said for mannerisms. Perhaps Cindy twirls her hair on her finger or Joey snorts when he laughs.
I realize these examples are a little out there, but I’m making the point very obvious so you can then translate it into the more subtle. Search for a tone for each of your characters. Your younger characters would use more simple language than an adult. A professor would use longer words than a character who didn’t graduate from high school. (This is not to say that you should make your character sound like a backwoods hick because they didn’t have the same opportunity for education; this is just to say that you can help show a character’s background by the way they talk.) Paul West wrote a great blog on this topic at (link here)
As you do this, keep in mind that it can easily be overdone. If Grandpa Hank burst in on every conversation with a “The store was more crowded than a Greyhound bus full of turkeys the day before Thanksgiving” or “It’s hotter than the backside of a pig cozying up to a fire on a spit,” he could easily overtake the whole book. If Gertie giggles on every single page, forget the dead body under the stairs – before long, it will be Gertie who sees her demise.
In summary, choose your characteristics wisely. Insert them judiciously. Sprinkle them in as needed to establish the tone of the conversation. Remember – Gertie giggles, not Grandpa Hank. If he starts to giggle, you confuse the reader because they’ve got him pigeon-holed and they know what he’s supposed to be doing. Oh, and if Grandpa’s giggling, you might want to check the expiration date on the apple juice. He’s got more hiccups than the frog that swallowed a bouncing basketball at the 4th of July picnic.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Writer Tip #6 -- Redundant Words
What is a redundant word? It is a word that says something that's already been said.
For instance:
"I'm sad," she said morosely.
"I am so excited to go to the park!" she said enthusiastically.
The road twisted, turned and wound through the dry, arid desert.
In these examples, the redundant words are "morosely," "enthusiastically," "turned," "wound, and "arid." Or you could keep those words and take out "sad," "excited," "twisted," and "dry." I'll leave it up to you.
I have found it true that authors tend to use redundant words when they are trying to enrich a description, not realizing that they aren't adding new information, they're just rephrasing what was already there. Sometimes they are trying to lengthen a scene or get that word count up. (I've never gone over 82,000 before but I'm aiming to do it!) Whatever the reason, be it mechanical or from lack of knowledge, you should not use redundant words in your manuscripts. It's the mark of an unprofessional and makes your book boring and dull. (Ha!)
In summary, if the word you're using is already stated but in another way, that word does not need to be there. Weed it out and save some room for words that add to the story or give more information. Don't harp on what the reader already knows.
For instance:
"I'm sad," she said morosely.
"I am so excited to go to the park!" she said enthusiastically.
The road twisted, turned and wound through the dry, arid desert.
In these examples, the redundant words are "morosely," "enthusiastically," "turned," "wound, and "arid." Or you could keep those words and take out "sad," "excited," "twisted," and "dry." I'll leave it up to you.
I have found it true that authors tend to use redundant words when they are trying to enrich a description, not realizing that they aren't adding new information, they're just rephrasing what was already there. Sometimes they are trying to lengthen a scene or get that word count up. (I've never gone over 82,000 before but I'm aiming to do it!) Whatever the reason, be it mechanical or from lack of knowledge, you should not use redundant words in your manuscripts. It's the mark of an unprofessional and makes your book boring and dull. (Ha!)
In summary, if the word you're using is already stated but in another way, that word does not need to be there. Weed it out and save some room for words that add to the story or give more information. Don't harp on what the reader already knows.
Writer Tip #5 -- Repetitive Words
With the richness of our heritage and culture, not to mention the richness that comes from the words we have adopted from other languages and made our own, we have a rich assortment of words from which to choose. We have words that start with every letter of the alphabet, every length, shape, size, and color, just about. And yet for some reason, there is a tendency to ignore the rich bounty all around us and to use the same tired words over and over.
Grimace. Quip. Suddenly. Sighed. These are just a few of the many, many words that are overused and done to death. But even worse than this is when an author uses the same word over and over again throughout the course of the same book. It is detracting from the story, bores the reader, and gives the impression that the author simply isn't trying hard enough, if they have to keep relying on the same expressions time and time again.
When you're using a word that's unusual, like idyllic or ambience, you especially want to make sure that you only use it once per book. Any more often than that and it will stick out like a beehive hairdo at the mall. Words that are more common can be used with greater frequency, but be careful -- some of your readers may be as persnickety as I am and remember that you used the same word on page 4, 99, and 203.
It gets particularly bad if you use the same word twice in a sentence, or three times on the same page, or four times in a chapter. Live a little! Find new ways to express yourself! Pull out your thesarus or better yet, depend on your own mind to find ways to put your ideas across.
I have a hard time with the word "was," and I didn't even know I had a problem until recently. I gave the manuscript to a friend for editing, and she went through and marked all the "was"s. Oh, my goodness. It went beyond my mortal comprehension. See, to me, it's an invisible word. I never see it. Yet to have it circled, and to see it five, six, ten times on a page -- I shudder to remember it. And yet how easy it was to fix. Instead of "She was sitting on her porch," it's now "She sat on her front porch." Of course, I still use it, and sometimes it needs to be there. But my usage has really dropped since then.
In summary, as you read your work, make note of how frequently you use the same words. If you can, change them. Tap into that source of creativity that bubbles in your brain and make your work original. Oh, and by the way, how many of you noticed the repetitive word use in the first paragraph of this essay? Be honest, now!
Grimace. Quip. Suddenly. Sighed. These are just a few of the many, many words that are overused and done to death. But even worse than this is when an author uses the same word over and over again throughout the course of the same book. It is detracting from the story, bores the reader, and gives the impression that the author simply isn't trying hard enough, if they have to keep relying on the same expressions time and time again.
When you're using a word that's unusual, like idyllic or ambience, you especially want to make sure that you only use it once per book. Any more often than that and it will stick out like a beehive hairdo at the mall. Words that are more common can be used with greater frequency, but be careful -- some of your readers may be as persnickety as I am and remember that you used the same word on page 4, 99, and 203.
It gets particularly bad if you use the same word twice in a sentence, or three times on the same page, or four times in a chapter. Live a little! Find new ways to express yourself! Pull out your thesarus or better yet, depend on your own mind to find ways to put your ideas across.
I have a hard time with the word "was," and I didn't even know I had a problem until recently. I gave the manuscript to a friend for editing, and she went through and marked all the "was"s. Oh, my goodness. It went beyond my mortal comprehension. See, to me, it's an invisible word. I never see it. Yet to have it circled, and to see it five, six, ten times on a page -- I shudder to remember it. And yet how easy it was to fix. Instead of "She was sitting on her porch," it's now "She sat on her front porch." Of course, I still use it, and sometimes it needs to be there. But my usage has really dropped since then.
In summary, as you read your work, make note of how frequently you use the same words. If you can, change them. Tap into that source of creativity that bubbles in your brain and make your work original. Oh, and by the way, how many of you noticed the repetitive word use in the first paragraph of this essay? Be honest, now!
Writer Tip #4 -- Don't Count on Your Computer to Spell
I wrote my first novel longhand and then transcribed it on to the computer. I'm not sure why I did that. I think at the time, I was intimidated by the big white screen staring up at me and felt more comfortable with a pen. (I hate pencils) Now I wouldn't write a whole book longhand if you paid me. (If you're making offers, though, I'm willing to think it over)
A computer is a marvelous thing. You can cut, copy, paste, delete, take whole scenes and move them around, take Jim and turn him into Scott, all with a few well-placed clicks of the mouse. But there are a few things you should never trust your computer to do for you.
1. Do not trust your computer to know what you're trying to say. I edited a manuscript for a friend and found the word "defiantly" where it should have been "definitely." If both words are spelled correctly, your computer is not going to pick up that subtle difference in a spellcheck. One of the mistakes we make when we're first learning the computer is expecting the computer to find everything, thus eliminating the need for us to do a line edit. Nothing eliminates the need for us to line edit.
2. Do not trust your find/replace feature to change only what you tell it to. I love find/replace. In Strength to Endure, I had to change a horse's name from Featherstep to Amadeus, and later I had to change the horse into a bicycle. I used find/replace in both those instances without a problem. But then I had to change the spelling of a character's name to make it more authentically German. I was spelling Erich as Eric, but a German friend of mine told me that adding the "h" on the end was more proper. So I blithely (and somewhat ignorantly) put "Eric" into the find feature and "Erich" in the replace feature and went on my way. Well, America turned into AmEricha. Frederic turned into FredErich. And I didn't notice it until I was printing it out.
While editing my work in progress, a Vietnam veteran friend told me that in most instances, "weapon" is more suitable than "gun." So I did a find/replace, but then I smarted up. (I do that real good sometimes) I then did a find, and double checked everything that had been replaced. We were getting along just fine until I discovered such things as "weaponfire" and "weapon shots," which obviously should be changed back. And have you ever heard of the color "burweapondy?" I hadn't either. So be prepared to double check and make sure that any odd phrases created by your find/replace are corrected.
In summary, yes, a computer is fantastic. It can shave hours and hours off your total project time. But don't count on it to know what you want all the time and to compensate for it. Use your own eyes to double check everything and don't expect the computer to do the work for you.
A computer is a marvelous thing. You can cut, copy, paste, delete, take whole scenes and move them around, take Jim and turn him into Scott, all with a few well-placed clicks of the mouse. But there are a few things you should never trust your computer to do for you.
1. Do not trust your computer to know what you're trying to say. I edited a manuscript for a friend and found the word "defiantly" where it should have been "definitely." If both words are spelled correctly, your computer is not going to pick up that subtle difference in a spellcheck. One of the mistakes we make when we're first learning the computer is expecting the computer to find everything, thus eliminating the need for us to do a line edit. Nothing eliminates the need for us to line edit.
2. Do not trust your find/replace feature to change only what you tell it to. I love find/replace. In Strength to Endure, I had to change a horse's name from Featherstep to Amadeus, and later I had to change the horse into a bicycle. I used find/replace in both those instances without a problem. But then I had to change the spelling of a character's name to make it more authentically German. I was spelling Erich as Eric, but a German friend of mine told me that adding the "h" on the end was more proper. So I blithely (and somewhat ignorantly) put "Eric" into the find feature and "Erich" in the replace feature and went on my way. Well, America turned into AmEricha. Frederic turned into FredErich. And I didn't notice it until I was printing it out.
While editing my work in progress, a Vietnam veteran friend told me that in most instances, "weapon" is more suitable than "gun." So I did a find/replace, but then I smarted up. (I do that real good sometimes) I then did a find, and double checked everything that had been replaced. We were getting along just fine until I discovered such things as "weaponfire" and "weapon shots," which obviously should be changed back. And have you ever heard of the color "burweapondy?" I hadn't either. So be prepared to double check and make sure that any odd phrases created by your find/replace are corrected.
In summary, yes, a computer is fantastic. It can shave hours and hours off your total project time. But don't count on it to know what you want all the time and to compensate for it. Use your own eyes to double check everything and don't expect the computer to do the work for you.
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