Just letting you know: The snow date for my talk in Brewster, NY, is this coming Sunday, February 3rd, and it looks like the weather is planning to cooperate. Details are here on the website.<\/p>\n
On December 7, 2018, Bethany wrote, I suffer with being too on-the-nose. I feel like I just say they \u2018walked\u2019 or whatever without using any nicer words to make good prose.<\/em><\/p>\n Which reminds me, any tips for good prose?<\/em><\/p>\n I wrote back, Can you say more about what you\u2019re looking for in terms of tips and good prose?<\/em><\/p>\n Bethany explained: I guess I just feel like my prose isn\u2019t as pretty or nice as some other people\u2019s prose. E.g., their prose is: \u201cThe truck leaped down the dirt road, leaving a cock\u2019s tail of dust blooming behind it,\u201d or something like that and mine is more like: \u201cThe truck drove down the road, and smoke came up behind it.\u201d A minor exaggeration, but I hope you see what I mean. Is this a matter of editing, and if so, what\u2019s the best thing to do to fix it?<\/em><\/p>\n Melissa Mead wrote, I wish I knew where to find a movie that I watched in school. Basically, it showed a student writing about a field trip to the airport. They\u2019d written \u201cThe engines made a loud sound. The jet went down the runway very fast, and took off.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n It highlighted \u201cmade a loud sound\u201d Then it superimposed various images over the moving jet: a lion roaring, people screaming, etc. Then it did the same for \u201cwent very fast\u201d: a gunshot, a sprinter, etc.<\/em><\/p>\n Then they chose the words that seemed to fit the best, and ended up with \u201cEngines shrieking, the jet raced down the runway and took off.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n I think it helps. I still remember it after 35-40 years, anyway.<\/em><\/p>\n Melissa Mead, I wish I\u2019d gone to your school! What a great way to present lively writing!<\/p>\n Bethany, just saying, a \u201ccock\u2019s tail of dust\u201d is a terrific image! So I wouldn\u2019t knock your prose.<\/p>\n Mark Twain wrote, \u201cThe difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter\u2014\u2019tis the difference between the lightning-bug and the lightning.\u201d I love this quote!<\/p>\n I\u2019ve said this before on the blog: that nouns and verbs pack more power than any other part of speech. In Melissa Mead\u2019s example, the verbs get most of the revision. Made a loud sound<\/em> becomes shrieking<\/em>, and went very fast<\/em> becomes raced<\/em>. I\u2019d argue that lifted<\/em> or soared<\/em> would have been better than took<\/em>.<\/p>\n The revision is also shorter, eleven words to seventeen, a big drop. So, often, concision is a part of fine prose. In the original, we see made a loud sound<\/em> replaced by one word, likewise went very fast<\/em>.<\/p>\n Strunk and White\u2019s The Elements of Style<\/em> is a jewel of concision, and I recommend it, as I have before. Yes, it\u2019s old-fashioned, but the sentences are oh-so elegant. I\u2019ve read them over and over again, just to savor them. And the book offers guidance in how to achieve such beauty.<\/p>\n Then there\u2019s sentence variety. The two sentences in the Melissa Mead’s original each start with The<\/em>—The engines<\/em> and The jet<\/em>\u2013which creates a static feel. The revision is one complex sentence that starts Engines shrieking<\/em>.<\/p>\n But, of course, if there were a second sentence that began, Air-conditioning humming.<\/em>.. the revision would feel static, too. We want to mix it up: different beginnings; short sentences next to long, single-clause sentences following many-clause ones.<\/p>\n Not that there\u2019s anything wrong with simplicity. Think of Hemingway! Think of Elmore Leonard! (Both high school and up\u2013and each unlike the other.)<\/p>\n Straightforward is good. We don\u2019t want to get so fancy that the reader can\u2019t understand us. In prose that isn\u2019t experimental, clarity trumps everything else. Also, I don\u2019t want to read writing that calls attention to its high-flown verbiage. I want prose to get out of the way of the story. Maybe on the third reading, when I\u2019m a little less enthralled, I can admire the beautiful sentences that underlie the urgent storytelling.<\/p>\n When I finish a manuscript, I always have to trim. In the process, I pay particular attention to my adverbs and adjectives, especially the ones that weaken, like a little<\/em>, somewhat<\/em>, half<\/em>, almost<\/em>. Even very<\/em>, which seems to be strengthening, often isn\u2019t. Sometimes we need these modifiers, but most of the time what we need more is to be bold. I\u2019ve mentioned here before the frequent unnecessariness of the modifier could<\/em>, as in she could see<\/em>. If she could and did see, then she saw.<\/p>\n Similes and metaphors can liven up prose. My MC\u2019s brother in the expulsion book is a tad unpleasant. He has mean names for his siblings, like he calls a sister Nut-cheeked Squirrel, and he calls my MC Unblinking Lizard. In revenge\u2013but not out loud\u2013she calls him Ugly Camel Head. This is metaphorical language, but it isn\u2019t lofty, and it does double-duty by suggesting what these characters look like. We can think of metaphorical comparisons when we write description, but I don\u2019t think we should strain for them. If they come, they come. We can help them flow in by reading writers whose prose is chock full of them, and then we can imitate, as I recommended recently in my post on style.<\/p>\n We can pay attention to the sounds of the words we write, something that\u2019s become easier for me since attending poetry school. We can add alliteration and assonance (dig the four a\u2019s in a row just now!) if we feel they\u2019ll shine up our prose–or we can eliminate them if they annoy us.<\/p>\n We can think about rhythm, too. To get a rhythm going, we can deliberately repeat sentence structure and particular words. This is a technique to use sparingly.<\/p>\n When I\u2019m not happy with a paragraph or even a sentence, I copy it into my notes and copy it again to work on. I may rearrange clauses to make them more natural. If I notice a stream of short sentences, I\u2019ll work on making a few of them compound–or vice versa. If I\u2019m not satisfied, I\u2019ll start over. All the while, if this is a first draft, I\u2019ll be thinking, Why am I doing this now? I may cut the whole thing.<\/em> And then I keep at it!<\/p>\n When a word doesn\u2019t nail what I\u2019m going for, I open a thesaurus in my browser. I like Power Thesaurus, but Thesaurus.com is good, too, and I\u2019m sure there are others. In the thesaurus, I may go through page after page, and I may click on a synonym to see what its synonyms are.<\/p>\n Sparkling prose uses the active voice. There were twelve angry men in the jurors\u2019 room.<\/em> is passive. Twelve angry men congregated in the jurors\u2019 room. <\/em>is active. I hope you agree that it\u2019s stronger. I pay attention to my use of there<\/em> when I\u2019m revising.<\/p>\n I was once, long ago, reading somewhere about grade level in writing. This learned paper said that prepositions push up grade level. Okay. That may be true, because a reader has to be a better reader to hack her way through prepositional gunk. I copied this sentence: I want to de-layer the organization–creating a closer day-to-day relationship and clearer line of<\/em> sight for<\/em> myself into<\/em> the business. from this website: https:\/\/www.thoughtco.com\/what-is-bureaucratese-1689186<\/a>. Three prepositions. I think the sentence means: I need to see what\u2019s going on<\/em>. We should avoid language that obfuscates\u2013or, to say it as it should be said, We should write so that the reader knows what we mean.<\/p>\n Two howevers on these last two points: Writing rules are meant to be broken when breaking them improves our writing. And it is great fun to write a character who speaks in endless, convoluted sentences\u2013but we can\u2019t let him talk too much!<\/p>\n Finally, my writing is sensory, and I like that in other writers, too. I want to be in any scene I\u2019m reading, hearing the engine shriek, seeing it lift off, feeling the hot wind it creates, smelling the gasoline. As we write, we can keep asking ourselves if we\u2019re bringing in the senses. Will our reader be able to see, hear, smell, taste, touch what\u2019s going? We don\u2019t want to overburden every moment with all of these, but we should keep them in mind.<\/p>\n Here are three prompts:<\/p>\n \u2219 Write dialogue between the queen\u2019s Third Minister for Royal Orange Squeezing and a farmer. The farmer has a complaint, and the minister doesn\u2019t want anyone to be blamed. The farmer\u2019s words are knives, but the minister\u2019s mouth produces only fog.<\/p>\n \u2219 Pick a paragraph from a magazine or newspaper, basically from anywhere, but not written by you. Rewrite it at least three times. Make it better. Make it worse. Write it in bureaucratese. Put it in the voice of your cat if he could speak.<\/p>\n \u2219 In your WIP, find a place where you\u2019ve just introduced a character and are describing him physically. Think of a metaphor or simile to bring your description to life\u2013an animal, mineral, vegetable, bit of architecture that he resembles.<\/p>\n Have fun, and save what you write!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Just letting you know: The snow date for my talk in Brewster, NY, is this coming Sunday, February 3rd, and it looks like the weather is planning to cooperate. Details are here on the website. On December 7, 2018, Bethany wrote, I suffer with being too on-the-nose. I feel like I just say they \u2018walked\u2019 […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[318,146],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1029"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1029"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1029\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1030,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1029\/revisions\/1030"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1029"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1029"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1029"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}