The brook has babbled and now an Old Mutt wants to drink from it. So I have agreed to share this blog with him when he is not solving murder mysteries and hanging out with Tink, Pam and Jayson

Friday, May 9, 2008

Outlaw Words -- Just

“Just” is an adverb, which is bad enough pedigree, but it is a step-adjective too as its mother remarried sometime in the 18th Century. The home situation made “just” confused, giving it a split personality and a diminished ego. It wants to please everybody and became an “easy” word. It just can’t say no. You can find just out hitting the bars looking for Mr. Write, but finding meaningless relationships, one word stands, a string of tawdry collections. Don’t become another author notched in its headboard, or worse yet, need treatment for an STD, Speaking Too Dumb. Just plays loose with time, so it’s always available to screw you up.

As an adverb it can mean now, or recently or the immediate past. It does not know what time it is, how can we expect it to tell us anything? Just is never on time, or on the money, but the slut keeps company with trash clichés like that one. It is a distant relative of the well-known outlaw “only” (from the first column) although it assumed an alias and dropped the family surname “ly,” so it could sneak around.

So many personalities, being everything to everyone, just adds nothing to any passage, as in “just in the nick of time.” What does it add to that nick of time? Nothing. Just comes on to everyone and molds to its company, the sycophant.

It can mean exactly as in “this is just how you do it,” but just is so vague that it can never be exact. It’s a fuzzy – not a fussy – word, and it infects the sentence with fuzziness. How can it be exact or even relatively accurate? “I’ll meet you just when the sun sets.” Does that mean when the sun touches the horizon, or is half blocked or completely gone? That’s exact? Just knows nothing so it can’t tell you anything. The literary equivalent of a the dumb blonde moll. 

Writers use it for emphasis, as in “do it just for me.” Does that mean for my sake, or in my name, or for my benefit, or in my stead, or so that I solely see, or whatever. It’s just too fuzzy, too confusing and where was I? I’m just fed up. 

Just is so confused that it needs some help from a psychologist or psychiatrist. Look at all its personalities: just, justly, just about, just like that, just so, just now, just this moment, just for me, and just anytime. They cover so much territory that just can fit in to any sentence and not change a thing. And that is just the problem. Just brings banality, not uniqueness. It’s a false friend. “Just” is confused with its multiple meanialities. It could star in a Betty Davis movie.

But years of therapy won’t help this poor be knighted Hindu. As an adjective, just brings in more meanalities for the word-doctors to treat, gaining its just desserts. A long stay under therapeutic evaluation, so that it cannot harm anyone’s prose. Adjectives, in general, are stronger than adverbs, but this recalcitrant word wants to stay weak, even in adjective form, as if it were addicted to modifying verbs to weaken their resolve “he justly swung the axe to free the maiden.” Then it picks on its own kind by modifying other adverbs, the cannibal.

As an adjective it can mean fair, or morally correct or reasonable. Why doesn’t it do the just thing and seek help in a sanitarium where it can be removed from our writing. Let another person become responsible from releasing it on the unsuspecting public, its just incurable. 

Friday, April 25, 2008

Writing Outlaws -- Words and Phrases that should be put away

Strunk and White lists words and phrases that are often misused. This is an important chapter of their book. I want to write about words that are not misused, but rather, overused to the point that their meaning is lost. They may be common or have multiple appropriate meanings, but to better communicate the writer should swap them out for words that have innuendoes that add meaning to the writing. These words are shallow and they infect our writing with shallowness, preventing complexity that adds interest. These words are chameleons that blend in with any surrounding. We want words that stand out and stand for something, words that have meaning. Every word we write should add to the picture, like that individual brushstrokes of a master artist. The words are Jackson Pollack droolings that are hit and miss, and random.

The bandit for today is “only.” It is a word that comes from a dreaded family called adverbs. They only exist to torture your noble nouns, and vigilant verbs. You can tell by the family name “ly,” that only is meant to be wantonly weak. So by pedigree you should have an aversion for the wimpy word.

It can mean merely, lone, exclusively, simply, barely, no more than, or it can refer to occurrence such as “it only happened yesterday.” It can describe a number or amount, “it is only three feet deep.” It trivializes situations as in “the rescue only required guts.” Or “he was only a farmer’s daughter.” That might be an eye catcher, and a good use of only, maybe. Or it could be that “he was the only one left standing.” Only is a jerk of all trades and a master of only one, or maybe none.

I personally want to use it only when I have to. So I want to put it away where it can’t hurt my writing. I rarely parole it from the holding cell. I think you should banish it too.

If you have any words to nominate for incarceration please forward them with the reason why to  newsletter@monmouthwriters.com.  

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

A Person of Substance ... Oh really ... A Pusher???

Every book written on how to write novels includes a section on point of view. Third person, first person, don't wander in second person to long or you'll lose your readers. Person is the camera through which a scene is viewed, changing perspective. It creates closeness and intimacy or telescopic viewing of characters in another land.
But person filters the light that is recorded by the camera. The same view reported by different people is described differently. Is there a Japanese movie like that about Samuri? You know there is I just can't spell it.
I am not concerned with the language style of the narrator, proper versus vernacular, that's a character issue. I am concerned with the perspective and perceptions of the narrator. Is he observent or is he misinformed and lazy or sloppy. How much can the reader rely on his reporting, insights and conclusions. The writer misses an opportunity to create suspense or tension if his narrator is rock solid every time.
How easy is it to involve the reader when he is looking to evaluate the narrators statements. In the
Great Gatsby is our narrator reliable or biased? Does he harbor any emotions that affect his analysis? Of course, and that is what the reader has to evaluate throughout the book. Is Gatsby as he is presented.
Good literature involves the reader. It is not just involvement as in caring for the characters, but it is involvement in the world the characters inhabit and form. They become real and we live with them for a time. Why cry at a sad ending unless you picture yourself in the scene.
Point of view allows the writer to filter the reader's information, and to make him question whether the narrator has all the facts? Don't you hate when someone has a secret and they won't tell you. Do you get involved to find out what it is?
Archie in the Nero Wolf series is accurate with what he knows. He's down right bland as buttered bread. He rarely even understands everything involved in the mystery. We try to beat him to the answer. We trust the information he gives us, but we know there is more.
Humans are incomplete, and inaccurate, so in creating realistic characters let human flaws add interest and character to your narrator, a side product is reader involvement.
If you want to hook the reader, pick a narrator that can be misled, or has a bias or is just lacking in intuition enough that he is a poor source of information, and let your reader do the leg work. It gets 'em every time.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

where do we start?

How do you prepare to write? Are you an out liner, who carefully writes out the flow of the storyline? Does this inhibit the characters running freely, limiting your choices of conclusions? Are you a scene collector with a story / plot board? How many pushpins hold the scenes in place? How often do you shuffle the cards or excise and trash a scene? Or do you just wing it? Letting the characters run around to whatever end your mind allows? What part of the spectrum do you live in from laissez to anal-retentive? What works for you and why does it work? My first book is finished without an outline and I'll be damned if it isn't harder to write one after the fact than prior.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

the writing on the web

Using a WYSIWYG to post information to the web makes writing easy to do. Has it become to simple to be heard and does this cause a overwhelming volume that obsecures the best in a horizon of mediocrity.

Friday, February 8, 2008

Why do you write?

I am enthusiastic and loquacious to the point of annoyance, at times. I love to imagine what if and meet the people I create while following that lead. But maybe, it is the God syndrome of Physicianhood. It's my world, therefore everything goes just as I say it should go. Now that does not mean I am not surprised by some of the things my characters do; it just means if I don't like it, if it doesn't fit in the story, they don't do it. When I write a story or a novel, I meet new people every time. I don't always like them, but they interest me. I become young and naive again or old and wizen with wisdom.