The journey from world building to prose is a long and twisted one. We know what a specific plaza in a specific city looks like. We have all of the elements: weather, sound, objects, people, etc. But unless we put them together in some kind of rational order and present them in a logical sequence, all we have are pieces of a jigsaw puzzle scattered on a table. We need to employ structured descriptions to allow the puzzle pieces to fall into place.
One of the best directors of the twentieth century, perhaps all time, had this to say:
Alfred Hitchcock was accused of many things in his day, but being “dull” was never one of them. The little dull bits known as “stage directions” that are cluttering your work are driving readers away. Let’s see how to avoid them.
Raise your hand if you’ve heard the following phrase:
If you’ve been writing for any length of time, you’ve certainly come across this doozy of a saying. You may even think you know what it means. But until you’re faced with having to drastically reduce the word count of your manuscript, you’ve only scratched the surface.
Small distractions that pull you away from writing for short periods of time may improve your productivity.
I know. It’s counter intuitive. But it’s also true. Let’s see why.
Your word choice may be killing your story in ways you haven’t realized. We’re always told to provide specific, concrete descriptions to guide the reader along in the fictive dream.
But sometimes we overdo it. Read on for some examples of what I’m talking about.
“George, you can type this shit, but you sure as hell can’t say it.” – Harrison Ford to George Lucas.
Harrison was saying that if George had taken the time to read Star Wars out loud, he would have discovered problems that reading it silently couldn’t reveal. I like his wording better, but let’s take a look at what we’ll find in our work if we take the time to use the spoken voice.
Hello friends,
With your permission, I’d like to take a more personal turn for a moment.
My mother-in-law, Arnette McCoy, died a year ago due to complications from ovarian cancer. Ovarian cancer can be aggressive, and it’s usually not discovered until the late stages…when it’s too late to treat effectively.
Ovarian Cancer Research Fund (OCRF) is working to find a better test for early detection. Such a test might have saved Arnette’s life, and may save the lives of the many who suffer from this horrible affliction–a large percentage of which do not even know they have it.
Please consider visiting the following link and donating any amount you feel comfortable with. It can be as small or as large as you wish. You can write in any amount, from what I understand.
Ovarian Cancer Research Fund Event
I thank you all for your ongoing support.
Yours,
Nat
[DISCLAIMER: My grammar advice is trustworthy for American English. Not so much if you’re in the UK. Please keep that in mind.]
Edited February 5, 2015 – Added reference to source of British usage rule.
The words “That” and “Which” are two of the most confusing words writers come face-to-face with every day.
Some of you are familiar with a grammar tip I share on Twitter:
That/Which: ‘That’ should introduce a restrictive clause (necessary for meaning). ‘Which’ is for non-restrictive (parentheticals)”
When limited to 150 characters, the whole “that vs. which” thing can seem somewhat cryptic. What the heck is a restrictive clause? What do I mean by “Parentheticals”? I think a couple of quick examples will make it easier to understand.
When I hung my shingle out as a “Writer” on Twitter the most amazing thing happened: People began inviting me to share my work. They invited me to participate in all sorts of promotions and contests.
One type of contest stood out among the rest: the Flash Fiction contest. Participating in these contests taught me a great deal about myself, and a great deal about writing.
