Some Stuff I Would Like to Say on the Subject of Trying to Write Good

Hello!

I had caffeine tonight on my drive home from school today because I was bad. Now I am staying up late not doing homework because I am bad. However, I'm too tired to apologize for being bad, so I'm not going to.

If you by chance happen to be one of the unfortunate people who have been exposed to the contents of my brain, you might know that for the last nine months I have been laboring under the delusion that I'm writing a book. This will probably turn out to be a waste of time [which it won't, because it's made me happy]. However, I have learned in the course of this delusion a couple of things about writing which, for the purpose of organizing my own thoughts, I would like to inflict upon you this evening without further ado.

So, without further ado, here's

SOME STUFF I WOULD LIKE TO SAY ON THE SUBJECT OF TRYING TO WRITE GOOD

note: "herm" = "him" + "her." "Heesh" = "he" + "she." "Hirs" = "his" + "her."

I hate saying "him or her" and "he or she" all the time because it's cumbersome.

1. "Said" is enough. Don't use a lot of weird synonyms for "said." Jane Austen says "said." Agatha Christie says "said." JRR Tolkien says "said." C.S. Lewis says "said." A lot of strange syllables other than "said" is distracting. Less is more.

2. Also, if the speech of the character describes the way heesh's talking, you don't have to describe how heesh's talking.

For example, if your character is stammering, don't say

"But--but--" she stammered

or

"But," she said

say

"But--but--" she said

or

"But," she stammered.

3. Your character should not be the sum of the adverbs that describe herm. If heesh is anxious, patient, and motherly, heesh should not always be saying things "anxiously" or "patiently" or "motherlyly." And when I say "adverbs," I'm including adjectives.  "Atticus said that if you delete the adjectives, you have the facts." Write with adjectives and adverbs if you want to, then read over and exterminate 90% of them. Less is more.

4. You don't have to describe your characters in detail. To this day, we do not know the color of Elizabeth Bennet's eyes [only that they're "bright" and "fine"]. Nor do we know the shape of Vera Claythorne's nose. And it's only by the end of Part 1 of The Two Towers that we discover the color of Merry Brandybuck's hair. But we do know what they're thinking and feeling. You can describe the anatomy of their brains and souls, but you're not required to explain the exact contours of their kneecaps. Less is more.

5. You also don't have to describe every itty bitty action. When Lizzie and Mr. Darcy dance, the actual dance is never described in one syllable [or in more than one syllable]. Only the conversation during the dance matters, unless your purpose is to study dances in the Jane Austen era, in which case you should put down Pride and Prejudice and pick up Dances in the Jane Austen Era for Dummies. Less is more.

6. It's all right [I think] to repeat the same description of a character instead of looking for a lot of synonyms for "ugly" or "unpretentious." JK Rowling almost invariably describes Crookshanks as Hermione's "bandy-legged, ginger cat," and Filch as having his "jowls a-quiver." Georgette Heyer in These Old Shades describes Rupert as having "a look of comical dismay" twice. And in the last chapter of Lord of the Flies, W. Golding uses the word "ululation" approximately 538 times to describe what Ralph is hearing without explaining what the hell "ululation" means. Don't feel the need to fill your volume of forgotten lore with synonyms. Less is more.

7. As much as it bothers me in dialogue, direct characterization within your prose, I've gathered, is permissible. Here's something Jane Austen wrote, PARAPHRASED [emphasis on PARAPHRASED] by yours truly:

"Mr. Bennet was a nice man even though sometimes he was sarcastic. Mrs. Bennet was a nut with air for brains."

The following dialogue never happened:

"You're nice," Mrs. Bennet said, "only sometimes you're sarcastic."

"Oh, yeah?" Mr. Bennet said. "Well, you're a nut with air for brains."

8. "Show, don't tell," my butt. Agatha Christie "tells." Jane-Bloody-Austen "tells." PG-f***********ing Wodehouse "tells." They "show" too, but they don't dodge "telling" like one of those guys in movies who has to get over and under all the red light-beams in museums. They don't overcomplicate the prose. A challenge I like is trying to "tell" in an amusing way like Douglas Adams when he says, "The ships hung in the sky the same way bricks don't." Or maybe that's showing. Is that showing? I don't know. But I've managed to cultivate an inner Dwight Schrute who tells me, "Keep It Simple, Stupid," when I think I'm getting too cute. Less is more.

9. This I've seen happen more on TV than in books, but I'm going to say it anyway because I want to. If your character is a funny character, don't make herm funny by having herm constantly talking and thinking about food and sex.

That's all I have to say about that, Beth out.

A Bit of Writing Part 8

Another bit I'm pleased with. Don't ask.

St. Stephen, the poets tell us, was the first of the great martyrs, the people who underwent all forms of violence and physical trauma in defense of the Truth. This was all very well and noble of them; however, according to History, once the people voted for executions to be made public in lieu of reality programs, the number of martyrs decreased by 47.3% almost overnight. A person can withstand physical torment if he must simply because there is nothing else to be done, but if he is made to do it in front of a gathering crowd, his ears turn red, his knees shake, and he stutters horribly over his Last Requests. There is nothing more embarrassing than public humiliation. Private humiliation, on the other hand, is bearable, especially if one is not constantly being watched by the Eye of Sauron which tends to sprout in the more scrupulous of minds like an obsessive Jiminy Cricket who hovers over the bed with a chainsaw and whispers, “Be good.”