Tag Archives: word choice

In One Ear and Out the Other

 

A waitress at a nice restaurant my wife and I like to frequent said, “No Problem,” after I thanked her for topping off our water glasses. I asked her, “what would be a problem?” She just stared at me.

I asked her, “If freshening my water isn’t a problem, would sending back my meal be a problem?”

We hadn’t been served yet, so that only confused her more. My wife interrupted and told her I was just being funny. Perhaps I was, but this waitress gave less forethought to her words then a parrot does. I know she was just using a common and well excepted version of you’re welcome, her heart was in the right place, but in this scenario, that remark does not mean the same thing as “you-are-welcome.” Left on its own, the implication is no problem this time, and even left unspoken it still rings in my ear the same way fucked rings in my ear every time I hear a newscaster or politician use the acronym SNAFU.

As a fiction writer, I work with innuendos and inferences all the time, they are the salt and pepper of suspense. But the older I get the less tolerance I have for them in real life. When that answer cropped up again a few weeks later, my wife and I agreed to just keep score. Now, rather than reprimand or ridicule, I just reduced my tip by one-percent every time they say it. We’ve saved some money, but more than that it’s taught me which waiters and waitresses not to ask for when we return. I want to be their patron, you see, not their problem.

That isn’t my only vernacular pet peeve. Another is when a stranger asks, How Are You, by way of introduction. This is the most common salutation of all, almost silent in fact, but it sounds like an invasion of privacy coming from a telemarketer or car salesman. I started having fun with these people years ago, by answering, “Sitting up and taking solids now. Thanks for asking… How are you?” Fully half just answer, “Fine,” and go right into their spiel. They don’t hear my initial comment any more than they hear their own first words. Makes me wonder what else they’re not going to hear. Another smartass answer I like is, “Unless you are my doctor or my life insurance agent, that’s none of your business!” That one they usually hear, but they still just go right into their pitch.

Another un-favorite is, Unbelievable, and it’s raising to the top of the list fast. With current events being where they are, what with real and phake news getting equal time it seems, this comment is cropping up with alarming regularity. The next time someone tells you something is unbelievable, take them for their word – don’t believe them! Instead, interrupt with, “Wait! Why do you want to tell me something you yourself don’t believe? That’s just a waste of my time, and it doubles the time you’ll waste on it.”

There are others that itch. Here are my un-favorite, irritable, ambiguous comments, and how they ring in my ear.

“No problem.” (server) Be careful what you ask for.

“How are you?” (stranger) What are you selling? 

“Unbelievable.” (casual acquaintance) Are you a fool?

“Let me think about it.” (spouse or S.O.) No. And don’t ask again.

“You never know,” or, “It’s hard to say.” (boss) Oh, you know alright, you’re just not telling me.

Any double-negative, like; “I don’t know that it’s not true.” (politician) It’s a lie, and they know it.

Finally, the most eye-rolling statement of all, “Congratulations!” (stranger) You want my money.

What are yours, and how do they ring in your ear?

Wordplay: My Geek Is Showing

I failed my children by not pushing them further in studying spelling and vocabulary. One of my sons, a senior in high school, said to me that he just doesn’t know very many words. His limited repertoire made writing essays for his college applications a difficult and grueling process. Writing never came easily to him.

In contrast, I’ve always loved penning my thoughts and studying the mechanics of grammar, selecting the right words to convey my meaning. I love playing Boggle and Scrabble, and I look forward to quizzing myself with Reader’s Digest’s “Word Power.” I stop myself from giving my son too much writing advice because it’s important that he express his own thoughts in his own way. In looking back at the differences in our educations, I have an idea of why he struggles more than I do.

My elementary and junior high schools encouraged participation in spelling bees. I spent hours on rote memorization with the help of my patient mom. She read pages full of words out loud to me, one word at a time. I never once thought to ask her what the origin of an unfamiliar word was, but today’s top spelling bee contestants frequently make use of that rather sophisticated technique. If I had known there was more to studying spelling than memorization, I might not have lost first place to Kathy Trotter in the sixth grade. I didn’t know how to spell curry. Rote memorization only got me so far. Fortunately, I wasn’t competing for a college scholarship. The short-term goal was simply praise, a dictionary, and a trophy. The lifetime benefit was that I became a good speller.

KellyDeadwood-2015-11Nov-ToiletTreesList

Spelling and vocabulary matter: I had to let my son know that toiletries would be easier to pack.

Sixth grade for my children was a different experience. Their spelling words were taken from their own journal entries. The children were tested on words which they individually used in their own writing exercises. I understood the practicality of holding students responsible for using self-selected words correctly. But I wanted a bigger challenge for my kids. How would they learn new and unfamiliar words and to expand their knowledge of language?

I reminded myself that teachers aren’t solely or primarily responsible for our children’s educations. As parents, we need to instruct and guide. To complement my children’s elementary school lessons, I developed a game that I thought would challenge them and be fun for our entire family.

During one week, I randomly selected a word each day from our two-volume dictionary. By the end of the week, we all had to know how to spell the seven chosen words and combine them into one sentence. The sentence could be longer than seven words, but it had to reflect correct usage and meaning. Essentially, the family and I studied a word a day—similar in scope to what Merriam-Webster currently offers online—but my game involved the added challenge I was seeking.

So that you can see how this game worked, I’m going to borrow the seven “Word of The Day” selections which Merriam-Webster promoted from October 29 – November 4, 2015. First, we have to consider the definitions of the words. The list below is taken verbatim from www.merriam-webster.com.

Pellucid: admitting maximum passage of light without diffusion or distortion; reflecting light evenly from all surfaces; easy to understand

Underwhelm: to fail to impress or stimulate

Ebullient: boiling, agitated; having or showing liveliness and enthusiasm; exuberant

Microburst: a violent short-lived localized downdraft that creates extreme wind shears at low altitudes and is usually associated with thunderstorms

Ruddy: having a healthy reddish color; red, reddish

Confidant: one to whom secrets are entrusted; especially: an intimate friend

Trepid:  timorous, fearful

Now comes the hard part: we have to consider those definitions in anticipation of using the seven words to construct one sentence. Here’s my solution to the puzzle:

My ruddy confidant was caught in a microburst which left her so trepid that, when she couldn’t describe the situation in a pellucid manner, I was underwhelmed, despite her apparently ebullient experience.

KellyDeadwood-2015-11Nov-KellyMemeThanksgiving

If I wanted to break the rules of grammar when creating this meme, I would have written Happy Givingthanks.

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Sadly, my kids never really enjoyed the game as much as I did, and it was quickly forgotten. But thank goodness, they now have smart phones and can share highly entertaining, often grammatically incorrect, internet memes with one another. If only people like my kids understood the rules before they broke them.

How Important is the Title?

What weight should we give to the title of a novel?

If the sum of a book is 100%, is the title worth 20% or 80%? On the one hand, if the title isn’t catchy then potential book buyers may never pick it up. All the efforts the author has put in will never be tested. What a waste for both author and reader. On the other hand, if the title is too convoluted readers may not understand the direction the author is taking them. Like a four-star chef, authors want readers to finish their creation. Putting it aside half-finished is worse than having never started. It is the difference between telling the waiter, “I’ll try something else, thank you,” and telling your friends, “I’ll never eat in that restaurant again.”

This question has been weighing heavily on my mind for the past few months as I turn the final corner on writing Knock Softly (working title). I’ve asked a few fellow writers – those who are in my writing group and have read the manuscript so far – to think of something better. Nothing is sticking. I try not to fret about it, tell myself it’s not important until you finish, but that finish line is now in sight and the fret is turning into sweat.

Let’s look at the responsibility of a title. That’s right, a title has responsibilities. First and foremost it has to succinctly sum up your story. It also has to be catchy enough to cause a reaction. It should say either “pick me up” or “not for me.” But is that all? Shouldn’t the title also come into to play at the end of the read? Shouldn’t the reader be able to see that title again on someone else’s shelf and be able to recall the entire story? Have an engaging conversation with that person over the book? Gone with the Wind does that. So does Hunt for Red October and To Kill a Mockingbird, and numerous others. That’s my dilemma with Knock Softly. I want a title that will recall the entire tome when next you see it again.

I came up with Knock Softly strictly as a constant reminder to myself that no main characters die in this story – there are things worse than death. Cancer is the villain. Curing our heroine is the story’s master thread, and keeping that central to the other events in the story hasn’t been difficult. Those other events include our heroine’s infidelity and a tortured past life she’s kept secret from her husband and children. Only mitochondrial DNA can save her now. To get it, her husband must delve into her dark past. Her desire to die with her secret is almost as strong as her will to live for her children and the child she carries. Knock Softly doesn’t convey any of that.

In Knock Softly, we have a mother of two, pregnant with another man’s child and suffering stage-4 cancer. She refuses to abort the baby, even though it increasingly diminishes her own chances of survival. Her husband rides the full length of the emotional rapids as he discovers there is so much more to the woman he married.

I don’t have the answer to my question; what weight should we give to the title of a novel?

I suspect it’s a squishy number, based on how strong the author’s own name is. Steven King could call his next novel Untitled and it would sell out. I doubt 100 copies would sell if my name were on it. For someone like me, a mild-mannered suspense writer whose day job is composing coherent internet ads in forty characters or less, I suspect the title is worth nearly half of everything written. It is in advertising, and in selling newspapers.

Now taking good suggestions for A.K.A. Knock Softly. Anyone?

Minutiae

According to Merriam-Webster.com, “Mystery” means anything that is not understood. Its origin pre-dates the bible. “Suspense” is defined as nervousness or excitement caused by wondering what will happen. It was first used in the 1500’s. “Minutiae” means trifles, details and smallness, and it dates to 1782, making it the new kid on the vocabulary block. The elements of minutiae can enhance both mystery and suspense, but they are used differently in each genre.

In a mystery, you don’t know who done it; that’s for the protagonist and the readers to figure out. The author plants clues throughout the story, and those clues are often in the minutiae, the small details in the beginning that have large consequences in the end. For example, break a fingernail in Chapter 1 and have that fingernail show up at the scene-of-the-crime in Chapter 7. Mystery readers need to be on their toes, constantly asking themselves, “Why did the author choose this minutiae to express that scene?” Readers won’t fault the author if they figure it out before the end. Instead, they will think of themselves as very clever for having done so.

In a suspense novel, the reader knows who did the dastardly deed, often from the opening chapter. There is no mystery to the story itself. Instead, there is plenty of mystique in the characters, and the readers are left asking, “Why does she always do that?” Readers don’t fault the author if the character’s mystique is double-handed or morally corrupt, so long as the author explains the minutiae in a rational way for that character’s development.

In a mystery, minutiae mystifies the storyline, in suspense it mystifies the characters and their actions.

What you choose say is just as important as when you say it. Character traits are popular with authors because these small details pull double duty with character development, and they don’t have a “sell by” date, meaning you can bring them back in your next chapter or next novel.

One place where minutiae can play a part in your novel is when you want to slow down the pace. Never use minutiae to speed up the action, like: His fist floated into Fred’s flabby gut. He heard him go oomph and gleefully watched Fred double over in pain. Instead say: He hit Fred once and watched him double over. Only use minutiae to slow down the action: The wine’s robust aroma floated in the air and competed with her perfume. He inhaled deeply, slowly; this was a night he had to savor.

Entirely new scenes and romantic moments can also benefit with a sprinkle of minutiae, to let the scene breathe. But this minutiae is only used once to full effect, then condensed for any revisits. Case in point: here’s a “first” scene from my upcoming novel Knock Softly (working title). The characters make several visits to the park and dog run with our protagonist, Edvard, and his two dogs, Rufus and Pudge, throughout the story. The dogs weigh 75 and 25 pounds respectively. (The novel goes into more detail on the dogs, too, but here such detail would only be minutiae.) This scene involves only a small portion of the 1.2-mile walk. Knock Softly is told in present tense.

Long before they arrive at the dog run, Ed has to walk the dogs past a family of oaks that proves to be home to an entire community of squirrels. The trees are a magnificent cluster whose matriarch stands dead center and at least 80 feet tall. The grounds under the oaks are well shaded and almost barren of other trees or tall vegetation. Their broad branches and long, fingered leaves steal all the sun’s rays leaving this part of the walk always cooler, darker. Rufus lifts his ears in eager anticipation and starts pulling on the leash. Ed wraps the leash around his wrist and braces for impact.

Readers revisit this part of the path again in another scene several pages later, but in the second scene, the pace is much faster and it is dialog that sets the pace. The scenery is just the canvas:

They’re getting closer to the oaks and both Ed and Rufus know it. He wraps the leash around his wrist before they get to the shadows and gives it quick jerk to let the dog know who is boss. Ed tells Jane… And the dialog follows.

All the minutiae from the first scene are present in the second, just not on the page. Left in the readers’ thought bubbles are the cluster of trees, the squirrels, and all the other previously established minutiae. To put all of that on the page again would only bog the story down when it wants to run.

And never use the same minutiae twice – that’s worse than marrying your brother-in-law in the same wedding dress.

Next Month: First Impressions
They say you never get a second chance to make a first impression, but much of fiction is character development. Development means change, and suspense means changing those first impressions. To write a great first impression in a novel, you have to first think about what your characters are going to develop into. Then figure out what kinds of darling details, social settings and backstories you need to get them there. Next month we’ll look at how to make a good first impression on the page.

Curse-ive Writing

Have you ever been reading a book and been jarred by the use of a curse word?  While I believe that swearing is something to avoid as a matter of personal virtue, I understand the dramatic effect and occasional necessity to a storyline.  However, sometimes the use of curse words doesn’t fit with the story, or character, making it come across as more out of place than your maiden aunt in a mosh pit.

When deciding if a curse word is appropriate, try thinking about two things.  One is the background of the character.  For instance, how would the character’s mother react upon hearing her child swearing?  Would ‘conniption fit’ describe her as she got out a bar of soap to teach the kid a lesson?  If so, your character is not likely to use swear words easily, even as an adult, with the taste of Ivory soap lingering in his memory.  Is the mother not around or doesn’t she care what the child said?  In this case, it’s quite possible that using expletives has become second nature to your character.

The other thing to think about is the situation.  Even a character living with flashbacks of soap dinners can be in a circumstance where a curse word will slip out.  Someone pushed to an emotional breaking point can let loose words she never thought she could.

There’s a great scene in the movie Speed (1994, screenplay by Graham Yost) where you can see this playing out.  Keanu Reeves, as Officer Jack Traven, is hanging through an access panel of the floor of a bus to check out a bomb that could blow him and the passengers up if the vehicle falls below 50 miles per hour.  Alan Ruck is Stephens, a passenger using a cell phone to act as the relay for a conversation between Traven and another officer.  After describing several aspects of the bomb, Traven reacts with a phrase that includes the ‘F’ word.  Stephens’ reaction is hesitation and then to translate it as “Oh darn.”

Traven’s outburst is situational from seeing “enough C4 on this thing to put a hole in the world.”  In light of this, any resistance he may have to swearing has broken down.  On the other hand, Stephens doesn’t know about the C4 and hasn’t reached that point.  He grapples with repeating the phrase then settles for something more compatible with his state of mind.

As people ‘mind their manners’ in everyday life, it’s up to you as an author to mind the manners of your characters.  Making the dialog realistic to their temperament and situation is important when using curse words.  Considering the impact of these expressions, tread carefully.  Your character’s mother may be watching.