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Language usage
 By Naomi Musch, on February 5th, 2010 Purple Prose
It may be a pretty popular color for your bedroom if you’re a teenager, or it may look awesome on an electric guitar, but for a writer, the color purple is to be shunned. I’m talking about a figurative color, something that we call “purple prose”.
Purple prose is language that is over the top. It is description that is extravagant, flowery, or simply too dramatic for the requirements of the scene. Purple prose creeps in stealthily, and for some strange reason, when we’ve written something that is too purple, we find ourselves liking it. Unfortunately, our editors won’t like it, and our readers will be distracted by it. Maybe since writers love language and words so much we just tend to get carried away with them.
Purple prose takes clear, concise writing and dresses it up in gaudy language –sights, smells, tastes, and sounds that are unrealistic or too poetic. For me, it’s a hard line to draw, because I know that imagery is good, and that using the senses helps evoke detail. But too much of a good thing becomes a purple patch.
Here’s an example of purple prose:
Gerard gazed pensively out the window streaming with raindrops, running like rivers of pain in his soul. The crashing thunder reminded him of his shattered hopes, of how he’d dreamed of winning the contest for his true love and proudly donning the Medal of Honor while the crowd thundered his name gloriously across the arena. His forehead crumpled against the cold, cruel glass and he sighed deeply, dramatically. All his hopes were gone, spiraling down, down, down into the chasm of his despair.
That’s some pretty awful stuff. I bet you were more tempted to laugh at the pathetic Gerard than you were to feel his suffering. If we analyze it a bit, we can see what made it so bad.
There are too many adjectives and adverbs – gazed pensively, crashing thunder, shattered hopes, true love, proudly donning, gloriously, and so on.
The alliterations (and still more adjectives and adverbs) of crumpled, cold, cruel is over-the-top awful, not to mention deeply, dramatically, down, despair.
The metaphoric chasm of despair and the simile of the raindrops running like rivers of pain are both just too flowery, if not cliché. The distant thunder reminding him of shattered hopes is cliché as well.
EXERCISE:
I’m working on a fantasy novel for publication that has captured the interest of an editor. However she has been quick to point out my purple prose right in the opening scene. Now I’m scouring my manuscript for more purple patches. Start scanning your own work for purple prose. It may help to go straight to a Big Scene – one where there is a crisis or turning point or lots of action. That’s where purple prose is mostly likely to crop up. Look for words or phrases that are just a little bit too much. It may not be an entire paragraph like the example above, but just a small sentence. For example, in my book’s prologue, I had young Prince Erasté facing a foe who’d just slain his father the king:
Below his knees, the life blood of Elian Ruelle soaked into the rich earth. He pushed one leg up, then the other, forcing himself upright until he stood to face the faerie queen. His body shuddered and a fire kindled deep inside, denying any place for the anguish that wrenched him. The knot in his jaw quivered.
In the revised version, the editor asked me to remove “pushed one leg upward, then the other” as being too purple. The new line simply says, Erasté forced himself upright until he stood to face the faerie queen. Everything else stayed the same. The answer was not to eliminate all the visuals, just to rein them in a bit.
So let’s start weeding the purple patches out of our manuscripts!
Personal Motivation
By Lynn Dean, on January 29th, 2010 Writing Your Story is Only the First Step
Ponder this quote from the blog of author and freelance editor, Maryanne Miller (http://bloodredpencil.blogspot.com/2010/01/things-that-drive-editor-crazy.html):
“Developing the story and getting it down on paper – or stored on your hard drive – is only the first step in writing a book. The next couple of steps are crucial and infinitely more difficult – at least I think so. Rewriting and editing to find just the right words and phrases can lift an average book into the realm of good and maybe even great.”
Fess up, now. If you love to tell stories passionately enough that you are willing to endure and even master all the nit-picky “jots and tittles” we more commonly refer to as the rules of phonics, grammar, and punctuation, would it be stretching assumption too far to guess that you just might be a bit of a perfectionist? Might have trouble turning off the editor inside your head long enough to actually finish the story? And, once it’s told, might be just a teensy bit defensive regarding its pristine perfection?
Learning that writing the story is only Step One continues to be one of the hardest lessons for me. Like most writers, I’m conscientious to a fault. Just “good enough” is rarely good enough with me. I “do my best” out of habit, and by the time I let anyone else read a piece, it’s already as good as I know how to make it. If they find fault with it, I don’t know how to make it any better…yet.
That’s what’s called bumping up against my learning curve. Being a (recovering) perfectionist doesn’t mean I think I already am perfect, just that I’d like to become more perfect. And finding the weak parts in my story gives me an opportunity to learn new skills.
Here’s what works for many writers:
Turn off your inner editor long enough to get a rough draft down on paper. Proper spelling and punctuation are such a distraction to me that sometimes I even close my eyes while I’m typing a scene. Just letting the movie in my head play, I type as fast as I can to get down the best action, dialogue, and sensory/setting tidbits.
Read over what you’ve written, preferably aloud, and catch any obvious errors as you go. Spell check is my friend. Grammar check, not so much. Sometimes my computer and I disagree.
Now read the scene out loud again. This time, just listen. Do the words sing? Over time, you’ll develop a sense for pinpointing the notes that are “off.” Does a certain word or phrase show up repeatedly? Could the dialogue be snappier? Are your characters unique? Do their actions show their personalities? I have found that some issues are almost never a problem for me. That’s very encouraging. Helps to balance out the growing list of writing issues that crop up in patterns in my rough drafts. (For me, it’s usually a “pet” word. I also tend not to let my characters show enough emotion.) I am building a checklist tailored to my own weaknesses and a file of tools for fixing them.
When the scene really is as good as you can make it, that’s the time to let others read it. I have two small groups of people who read my stories. One is made up of friends and family. They give me encouraging, positive feedback and inspire me to keep writing as they hound me for the next chapter and the next. The other group, though, doesn’t let me off so easily. They’re friends, too, but the friends in the second group are other writers. They know a thing or two about the craft. They’re good at skills I’m still working on. And they give it to me straight—“speaking the truth in love,” of course. “Faithful are the wounds of a friend.” And when they’ve finished making suggestions, guess what?
I get to edit the scene again!
When a story is finally, finally as good as I can make it, I submit it to a publishing editor, and guess what? Yup…MORE edits!
I’ll admit there are times I’ve wanted to throw up my hands in frustration, BUT with each edit the story gets better and stronger. The bad news that a story can always be improved is also the good news. Even famous authors continue to grow and improve over the course of their careers, but it didn’t stop their earlier works from being published. With practice and experience we become better. And really, being the perfectionist I am, isn’t that a good thing? When I look at it that way, edits are almost fun.
Almost.
Point of View
By Michelle Van Loon, on January 22nd, 2010 Point of View Makes All the Difference
When you and your sibling have a disagreement and tell your stories to a parent, you learn firsthand the difference someone’s point-of-view can have on the way he or she sees the same basic set of events. Your brother’s version of how grandma’s prized antique vase got broken may not be the same as yours – even if the two of you were practicing football tackles together in the living room where the vase was displayed.
Using the power of point of view can make your writing jump off the page – and may give you an “ah ha!” as you dig into your characters’ motivations. Here’s a great point of view exercise you can try to explore the “why” behind a sibling conflict of Biblical proportions.
- Read Genesis 37 several times in order to become familiar with the flow of the story.
- Choose one of the three primary characters in the story (Joseph, Reuben or Jacob/Israel) and list the things that happened in the story from his perspective. Pay close attention to what your character knew and did at this point in his history. For example, Reuben didn’t know that Joseph had wandered looking for them from Shechem to Dothan. Joseph, of course, had no idea that his brothers were going to jump him and dump him into a pit. Jacob, also known as Israel, never would have imagined that his brood was capable of such treachery.
- Use your outline to write a first-person account of the events of Genesis 37, having your character (Joseph, Reuben or Jacob/Israel) tell the story from his perspective. Make sure he is only telling about the events in which he was directly involved in the chapter. Remember, these characters didn’t know at this point how this story was going to turn out like we do!
This exercise is even more useful if more than one person does it. If you have a sibling, a friend or even a co-op group each willing to do take different characters from the Biblical account and write about the events of Genesis 37, you’ll have an opportunity to hear the difference a point-of-view can make in a story.
Characterization, Goal, Motivation and Conflict
By Melinda Evaul, on January 15th, 2010 Creating Unforgettable Characters, Part 4
In my last post we explored Internal and External Goals. Each of us has things we value. It makes us ‘tick.’ We don’t always recognize, though, what our values or goals are. We roll on in life doing what we believe is right and never stop to ask why we act the way we do or if our actions are correct.
When you create characters, spice things up with conflict. Your story and the characters become more interesting when life isn’t normal. Giving your characters conflicting values is one way to do that.
Let’s say your hero places money above everything else in life. That may seem selfish, but it’s who he is. Money is his ‘core value’ or his ‘internal goal.’ Place him in a position to lose his money and you have a conflict. Give him a reason to spend his money on a worthy cause that he would normally ignore. You’ve created a deeper conflict. Now he’s in a position that requires a choice. It will challenge his core value and could bring about a change in the way he thinks and behaves.
Example: Mr. Rich loves his money. He meets a person who touches his heart. This person needs money and is in a desperate situation. Mr. Rich’s money would change their life. Nothing has ever tempted him to part with his money. He has a huge internal conflict. Will Mr. Rich keep his money and ignore this person? Will he follow the leading of his heart, change his core value, and share the wealth? What would it take to make him change his attitude? If he shares, will it cause a permanent change or will he go back to life as usual?
Did you recognize the story of Scrooge in the example? Tiny Tim created a conflict that forced Scrooge to make a choice. This “internal conflict” propelled the story. It forced Scrooge to make a choice and it uncovered a deeper value. He learned that people are more important than money. His core value changed. Scrooge learns some hard lessons before he lets go of his money. In his case, it’s a permanent change.
Writing lesson
Examine the internal goals of a character you’re creating. Insert something that will challenge their core value. Choose something that forces him or her to make a hard choice. Some people don’t change when the conflicts come. They remain the same and never grow. And there could be a time when their core value is correct and the conflicts they face confirm this.
Choose one of the following items for your writing lesson.
- Show by his or her actions how the conflict makes a positve change in their core value. Show how they fail to change when the conflict arises.
- Show how your character faces a conflict that proves their core values were correct. Show how they maintain that value when it’s challenged.
Dialogue
By Teri Dawn Smith, on January 8th, 2010 I love writing dialogue. When I start working on a story, it’s the things characters say to each other that begin sounding in my head.
Improving the dialogue is one of the fastest ways to make your story better so let’s look at some tips from professional writers.
All of the books I’ve read agree on two things: A.) Don’t try to write dialogue the way we speak! Leave out the boring parts such as greetings. “Good morning.” “How are you?” “Fine, and you?” (Yawn!) B.) Don’t use dialogue as an information dump. Example: “My aunt is coming. She’s the one who has the pizzeria down on Main Street where the fire was last night.” If the information is essential, find another way to work it in, but don’t dump it in the dialogue.
So what specifically can you do to improve the dialogue?
Tip #1 from James Scott Bell: Write compressed dialogue. Chip off all the unnecessary words. Instead of writing, “Would you like to go to the basketball game with me?” Write: “Let’s go to the game.” Drop words, and keep it lean.
Tip #2 from Susan May Warren: Spice up the conversation between characters with name-calling. If someone tries too hard to be funny, have a character call him a name. “Okay, Bozo, that’s enough out of you.” If someone’s suggests something dangerous, use another name. “Whoa, Superman, I’m not that brave.” The possibilities are endless and lots of fun.
Tip #3 from Jerry Jenkins: Use the simple attribution of “said” if you use one at all. Attributions are the little indentifying tags like he said, she asked. Some writers try to get clever and change the attribution: he responded, she queried, etc. Those attributions begin to call attention to the tag itself while “said” is almost invisible. Whatever you do, don’t write: “Get out,” she hissed. (Hissing requires the “s” sound which is not present in the words uttered.)
Tip # 4 from Donald Maass: Infuse dialogue with tension. Tension comes from warring emotions. It’s not so hard to come up with emotional friction between antagonists, but what about pitting allies against each other? Have them get sarcastic with each other. Donald Maass says, “True tension in dialogue comes not from what is being said, but from inside those who are saying it.” (The Fire in Fiction, page 195)
Writing Exercises:
- Go over a passage of dialogue you’ve written and see if you can cut words.
- Find places to inject name-calling.
- Use only “said” or “asked” as attributions, but see if you can get by without them sometimes.
- Look for places to ratchet up the tension, especially between friends.
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