Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Its/it's

I frequently see its and it's misused in manuscripts. Keeping them straight is very easy.
It's with an apostrophe is the contraction for it is. If you can substitute it is, it's is correct
Its means belonging to it (Possessive pronouns have no apostrophe).

Example: I will observe the cat while it's drinking its milk from its bowl.
The first one is the only one for which you can substitute it is. You can corrrectly say it is drinking, but it is drinking it is milk from it is bowl sounds strange.

As you can see, keeping these two troublemakers straight is very easy.

Happy writing.

Grammar Guru

Sunday, March 7, 2010

A Slice of Writer's Life

"Where does a writer's 'voice' come from?"

Flaws. Imperfections. Blemishes. This is the stuff that makes us individuals, that makes us lovable, and that gives writers their unique perspective on the world. A writer's vantage point is precisely where her voice emanates. What makes a writer is someone who recognizes their voice and their particular turn of mind come from the same immeasurable place. Every writer has a voice. Some voices are more toned than others.

A writer's voice is a compilation of language, personal history, opinions, and truth as the writer sees it. Everybody has a literary voice but hearing it and being brave enough to write it down for others to see is something else. A writer's voice is the truest expression of what we believe or want to believe is fundamental to the existence of our species.

Voice is what grabs an editor or a reader and makes them follow along until the story is done. Voice is what draws a reader so deep into a piece that they begin to identify with the events and attach their own experiences to the writing.

If everyone has a voice, why is it one of the most difficult and esoteric fragments of the writing process? What do you do if an editor says, "You need to develop your voice more," or "Your voice didn't grab me enough to make me interested?"

Writing is like a muscle. It has to be flexed, exercised, and nourished every day. Not just the five thirty-minute exercise sessions a week called for by the surgeon general for your sexy abs, but the writing muscle needs to be put through some kind of paces seven days a week. The easiest way to accomplish this is by keeping a journal. It does not require a specific routine or set of exercises. In fact, the more gibberish you write the more clear things will become as you work daily in your journal to develop the unique way you want to write. But you must write something every day.

Journal writing is the place to practice and get things right or wrong or dumb or straight or crooked or just listed. The writer's journal is a no-boundaries play ground where you can experiment, lie, twist, copy, sort, and get right your special way of turning a sentence or laying words down in a certain order that are the tell-tale signs of your unique writer's voice. The more practice you make in your journal, the more your "real writing" begins to show signs of a voice that is distinctly yours. No one has to know that you practiced day after day, year after year in a journal to finally identify your true voice. In fact, when (not if,) but when you go back and reread your journal burn the parts you don't want shared if they bother you. But respect that your journal is the proving ground for what works and what makes your voice special. Type, write by hand, paint, use stickers, whatever it takes to open yourself to the real you and how you want to be heard. This journal practice will gently slide into your writing and someday an editor will send you a letter that says, "I love your voice."

What I'm Reading Right Now: "When Knowing Becomes Love, Meditation As Contemplative Inquiry" by Arthur Zajonc.

What Are You Reading?

Be well, write well,
Joy Held
Copyright 2010

Thursday, February 18, 2010

USING DIALECT IN STORIES


By


Rhonda Browning White


Nothing sinks the reader deep into a story like using all available senses in your writing. We want to smell the wood smoke from the fireplace, taste the buttery crust on the apple pie, feel the well-worn softness when we snuggle under Grandma’s lap quilt, see the crinkles at the corners of her eyes when she smiles, and hear the Southern twang of her voice. But how is the best way to convey Grandma’s Southern dialect, without having it backfire on you? Here are few rules you can follow that should keep you out of trouble.

Be personally familiar with the dialect you’re trying to convey, unless you want to be considered a thoughtless classist or racist. At one time or another, we all share the same emotions and many of the same experiences, so use caution when conveying those emotions and experiences through regional dialect. This isn’t to say one should be ashamed or afraid of dialect. In fact, nothing makes me happier—more proud, even—than to hear people speak using their own local speech patterns. If we all spoke a homogenized language, what a boring world this would be!

Don’t overdo it when writing dialect. A few well-chosen words and phrases sprinkled throughout your story will do an amazing job of allowing your reader to hear the character’s speech inflections. Paragraph after paragraph of phonetically written dialogue will fry your reader’s brain. Who has time to interpret an entire novel of “foreign language,” when we simply want to read a good story? Overuse of dialect will take away from the plot and action, because it pulls the reader away from the story and makes them think about the words, instead of the meaning they should convey.

Take it easy on misspelled words. I strongly recommend avoiding what Jerome Stern, author of Making Shapely Fiction, refers to as “eye dialect.” Substituting misspelled words such as enuff for enough does nothing to change the pronunciation of the word (dialect), but instead suggests inferiority on behalf of the character and arrogance on behalf of the author. Misspellings and overuse of apostrophes also wear out the eyes of your reader. For example, read the following sentence:

          All dis tawk ‘bout die-leckt is ware-in’ on my onlyest nerve.

Can you imagine having to read an entire book with a character’s dialogue written in this manner? Instead, you can express the same character’s speech patterns in this way:

          All this talk about dialect is wearing out my last nerve.

By the phrases “all this talk,” and “wearing out my last nerve,” we know that the character has a strong regional dialect.

Don’t be afraid to use slang. Each region has its own set of words as phrases, as does each generation. Think about the phrases your parents used and use, compared with those used by your teenager. “Man, he’s one cool cat,” transports our character into the seventies. “That’s what I’m gonna did,” tells us the speaker is an older Cajun. “Y’all come back now, you hear?” Well, we all know Grandma Clampett’s voice. Again, the key is not to overdo it. In addition, words like gotcha, gonna and probly are such common pronunciations of their correctly spelled counterparts in American English that it’s not necessary to misspell them in your writing, at all.

Study some of the masters of regional dialect before you begin to write. Two who quickly come to mind are Toni Morrison and Ron Rash, and here is an excerpt from each one’s work:

          “You think I’m going to let him put me in the poorhouse so a slick lawyer can stay rich?”
          “No, ma’am.”
          “You been watching those Watergate lawyers?
          “No, ma’am. Yes, ma’am.”
          “Well, then. Don’t say another word about it. You want some supper or not?”

The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison



          “You ain’t got need for a granny-woman, have you?”
          “No,” I said. “I’m the high sheriff, and I’m looking for Holland Winchester. I was wondering if you’d seen him?”
          “Oh, I’ve seen him,” Widow Glendower said. “I seen him twenty-odd years ago when I brung him into this world.”

One Foot in Eden by Ron Rash


From each of these powerful examples, we have an idea not only of what these characters sound like, but what they look like, as well. Though we don’t know the exact setting of the story (location, year, and so on), from each brief paragraph, we can guess that the first is set in the Deep South and the second in the Appalachian Mountains. The characters aren’t portrayed as ignorant, because two have knowledge of politics, another is a law enforcement officer, and yet another is a successful midwife.

Dialect is influential and commanding, when used correctly. Take care to use it as you would a potent seasoning. Sprinkle it lightly and occasionally throughout your story for the best flavor.










Tuesday, February 9, 2010

A Slice of Writer's Life

"Twenty Reasons Why Journaling Is A Writer's Best Friend"

Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depth of your heart; confess to yourself you would have to die if you were forbidden to write. ~Rainer Maria Rilke

Keeping a journal is good exercise for writers. Here are twenty good reasons why writers should keep a journal.

1. Good opportunity to clear your head of distractions before working on writing projects

2. Good source of story and poem ideas

3. Serves as a personal history that helps you learn from your past

4. Excellent place for exploring a wide range of emotions without judgement

5. Allows for deep self-observation of habits and patterns that can either be supportive or destructive

6. Creates awareness of growth and change

7. Opportunity to function in the present moment even if you are writing about the past

8. Serves as self-counseling to work through problems

9. Good place to explore boundaries, how to set them, when to break them

10. Allows a writer to connect with herself and the world in a deeply satisfying way

11. Great place to discover what you believe in and what your personal truth is

12. Discover what truthful writing is

13. Great practice for shutting down the inner critic before working on a writing project

14. Teaches you how to focus intently on something until it is finished

15. Helps you understand patterns of behavior in your life and allows you to explore changes and consequences in the journal before trying them out in real life

16. Repetitive themes and motifs enable you to identify your passions

17. Helps you to recognize your purpose in life and in writing

18. Teaches you patience and acceptance of the time it takes for things to evolve and change

19. Journal writing teaches you to appreciate form, space, and design necessary to visualize successful writing projects

20. Teaches compassion toward yourself and others as you recognize your own flaws and how those traits make you special.

There are no "journal police" and no specific rules about how to journal. Just grab something to write with and explore the many benefits a writer can experience by keeping a regular journal practice.

Be well, write well.
Joy Held
Copyright 2010

Friday, January 22, 2010

Using Poetry to Explore Character

Huh? Why would I want to do that?

I introduced this exercise into my novel writing course because poetry was a requirement for the curriculum. But I've kept using it because I found it a useful tool to explore character and theme. By concentrating on the poetic forms rather than content, you're able to stand back and examine your story from different angles that you may otherwise overlook.

I have included some examples drawn from my own story to show you what I mean. Obviously, you don’t have to be a poet to have fun with this. In my experience the more rigid the form for the poetry, the more it frees up different connections. It’s surprising what you can come up with when looking for another syllable.

CINQUAIN:


2 syllables One word giving the title. (noun)
4 syllables Two words that describe the title. (adjectives)
6 syllables Three words that express action. ( Verbs)
8 syllables Four words that express feeling
2 syllables One word that gives the title a different name or, repeat the title possibly using a synonym.


Example-using my main character.

Jake
brave, resourceful
running, fighting, riding
finding place of belonging
Jake



Haiku: Japanese form of poetry, generally used with nature themes. Form requires 17 syllables in three lines with pattern:

5 syllables
7 syllables
5 syllables


Example: Thinking about my antagonist...

Shadow flashes past
vile, repugnant and alone
feasting on your soul


Limerick:
A limerick is a short, funny, often nonsensical poem with a specific rhyme and rhythm pattern.

8-10 syllables rhymes with lines 2 and 5
8-10 syllables rhymes with lines 1 and 5
5- 7 syllables rhymes with line 4
5- 7 syllables rhymes with line 3
8-10 syllables rhymes with lines 1 and 2

Example: I have always been dreadful at these.

There once was a boy who loved to ride trains,
Much train trivia lived in his brain,
Jake knew how much gold
The boxcar could hold
And he even liked riding in the rain.


Rubai:
The Persian word for quatrain, or four-line verse. The rubai is an ancient literary form the Persian poets have used to express their thoughts on diverse subjects. Because a rubai is so short and its rhyme scheme so restrictive, it often makes use of metaphor or imagery to express its meaning.

rhymes with lines 2 and 4
rhymes with lines 1 and 4
usually does not rhyme
rhymes with lines 1 and 2

Example: thinking about my main characters journey

Bringing together a family that has lost its way
Through time and space I must travel in a day
To hell and back before the stroke of twelve
To heal the cracks and finally have my say.


Acrostic
Write your characters name vertically. Then write the lines of your poem, starting with the letters you have written. Each line can be a word, a phrase, or a sentence. I have chosen to do my character’s name. You could also choose the one word which represents the theme or heart of your story.

Journey through time and space
Awakening a sense of purpose and belonging
Keeping fast to convictions
Enlightenment

Look up different forms, experiment and don’t take yourself too seriously.

Monday, January 11, 2010

Letter From Readers

Letters from readers are not usually why writers write. Most writers are surprised to hear from readers. We are inundated with facts about how bloated the publishing market is and we can plainly see how many books are for sale on Amazon so it can be startling when a letter arrives from a reader with so much competition out there. I hesitate to call them fans, because some letters from readers express differing opinions or complaints, but readers’ letters can literally make a writer’s day go from bad to excellent. Just knowing that someone has noticed your work will energize your writing for months!

I recently received a letter in the mail from a young visitor to my website who asked me how she, a twelve year old, could become a better writer. She appreciated my list of “21 Steps To Writer Wellness” posted on the site (http://www.writerwellness.com/) but wanted more.
At first blush, my response is that writers are born not evolved, but that isn’t entirely true. If this girl is compelled at age twelve to ask me how to become a better writer, she is already on the right track. Somehow she knows now that writing is her destiny. I could have told her about the lack of money a writer lives on, or how the average writer doesn’t have health insurance, or how difficult getting into print can be, or what overbearing manic depressives some editors can be, but instead I typed a return letter with ideas and books to read about becoming a writer.

Obviously her letter made an impression on me. I receive letters and emails about my book at a regular trickle. They say something nice and then ask for something. Sometimes I can help. Other times I cannot. As I mentioned, just getting the letter can buoy my creative spirit and keep me trudging through this most solitary of occupations for many months.

And then there is the unusual “letter” I received recently from a reader who intended to send me a letter (I think) and never got around to it. She made notes and wrote questions for me in the margins of my book Writer Wellness, A Writer’s Path to Health and Creativity and I found it in a box at a church used book sale! Yes, I bought my own book back for one dollar but it was crammed full of this wonderful woman’s handwriting and plans. What a treasure her notes and comments are to me today and what an amazing sensation to reread my book while reading her notes. I imagined her sitting across the table talking to me as she studied my ideas and the two of us coming up with a plan to put the ideas into motion to help her write her memoir, but her handwriting in my book is the only connection I have to her. It’s a connection worth writing for.
Have you ever written a letter to an author? Did you get a response? Have you thought about what you would say to a fan if you received an uncomplimentary letter about something you had written? Would this interfere with your desire to write?

What I'm reading: 45 Master Characters by Victoria Lynn Schmidt
What are you reading?

Be well, write well.
Joy Held

Monday, January 4, 2010

Point of View

Point of View
When we discuss the major elements of a story, the first three mentioned are plot, characterization and setting. The fourth element is just as important as the others, and sets the parameters by which this story will be held. And this element is point of view. Many writers and even writing professionals interchange the terms point of view and viewpoint. The point of view establishes the boundaries under which the narrator will abide, as well as the “head” or “camera angle” from which the action will be filtered; it is established in the very first paragraphs of a story and is not changeable unless the author engages unusual devices. The viewpoint, on the other hand, is the eyes through which we will experience the story, and depending upon the point of view used, may change multiple times throughout the story.

Every story has a narrator, although at times the narrator is more obvious than at others. For example, in First Person Point of View, the narrator is an actual character, the “I” who is telling the story. In other cases, such as in Third Person Omniscient Point of View, the narrator is an entity of its own with supernatural abilities that looks down on the action from afar or who can swoop into any character’s head. The viewpoint character may or may not be the narrator. It is through understanding exactly who your narrator is that you understand what point of view you are using and how that point of view is controlled. I strongly recommend you imagine the narrator as a character, a breathing entity with a physical body, so you can visualize your narrator and know exactly where he is at all times. It is by controlling the narrator that we control point of view.

Depending on which source you study, there are a variable number of points of view to choose from. However, I have selected the six I think are most often used.

First Person Point of View - The narrator is the character “I.” Only things that are experienced in some way (seen, heard, thought, felt, etc.) or that are known by the narrator can be revealed: I knew I shouldn’t have let Grandma go down there. She isn’t too steady on her feet to start with, and then she gets those dizzy spells. But she insisted, and the next thing I know, she’s tumbling down those stairs like a gymnast . . . In first person point of view, the narrator and the viewpoint character are one and the same. First person point of view is a good point of view for a beginning writer to use, as it’s fairly easy to control—since your “I” is your narrator, you already know exactly where that little guy is. Do be advised that it’s necessary to let your reader know as soon as possible—preferably in the first paragraph—that “I” is the narrator.

Second Person Point of View - The narrator addresses the reader or some other assumed “you”: You know how it is. You think you shouldn’t intervene, you think she’ll get mad at you if you don’t let her do what she’s always done . . . “You” in this case, is the viewpoint character and the narrator, which makes things rather, uh, strange. This is a point of view that is difficult to maintain and that becomes awkward very quickly. Few stories have used this point of view successfully—and we don’t recommend using it.

Third Person Point of View, Panoramic - The narrator sees all the action, but is not privy to any character’s thoughts or emotions. This can best be explained as imagining the narrator as an audience member watching a stage play or as a movie camera recording the action. The narrator is independent of the characters and can see and hear everything, and may even see or hear things individual characters do not. However, the narrator does not have the ability to go inside any character’s head. Therefore, in this point of view, there is no viewpoint character—the only viewpoint is that of the narrator, who is not a character within the story but an outsider. Mrs. Smith stood at the top of the stairs, her grandson John next to her. Clinging to the handrail, she planted her trembling foot on the first step. But her other foot caught on the carpet and . . .

Third Person Point of View, Controlled Consciousness - This is probably the easiest point of view for a beginning writer to use. The narrator is the viewpoint character. Like first person, we see all the action through the eyes of a single character, and we can only see what our viewpoint character—our narrator—sees. The difference is we use “he” or “she” instead or “I” or “we”: John knew he shouldn’t have allowed his grandmother to go down the stairs alone. She wasn’t steady on her feet and sometimes she grabbed onto the nearest object when dizziness overwhelmed her. Note that in order to let your reader know immediately whose viewpoint we’re in, the viewpoint character should be the first character mentioned in the story. In this case, since John’s name is the first name mentioned, we expect that we will be in John’s viewpoint and that John will be our narrator. Also note that since John is our viewpoint character, we see the other character’s through John’s eyes. Instead of calling Mrs. Smith “Mrs. Smith,” we call her “his grandmother.” Everything and everyone is in relation to John and how John views them.

Third Person Omniscient – For some reason, this is the point of view many amateur writers choose. After all, being an author is like playing God, so why not take all the power you can? Why not? Well, for starters, controlling those God-like powers is extremely difficult and if they aren’t done correctly, you may as well write “I AM AN AMATEUR” at the top of every page. The omniscient narrator sees everything and knows everything. The omniscient narrator has the power to jump to any location, to any point in time, at the snap of a finger. The omniscient narrator has the power to pop into any character’s head and know what that character is thinking. The omniscient narrator is GOD. So what’s the problem?

Well, if this power isn’t controlled by the use of transition and invitation, the reader can feel like he’s the ball in a ping pong game, bouncing all over the place. And if the narrator suddenly jumps to a different location, the reader is lost. Omniscient point of view requires first and foremost that it announce itself as being as such in the first paragraphs of a story. This is typically done by exercising omniscient power, such as by stepping outside the characters and looking down on them, then slowly moving into the action. Consider: The Smith house was like any other house on Julian Street, its elegance long faded and its best features eroded by time. A widow since the Big War, Mrs. Smith fought for her independence on a daily basis. Even though her grandson John wanted to do everything for her, she reminded him daily she was not yet an invalid.

Without a word, she quietly walked out of the living room and went to the kitchen. Apple pie would sure be good for a change. And not any apple pie, but her made from scratch pie with apples canned from the fruit trees in the yard. She opened the kitchen cabinets. Flour, sugar, nutmeg, cinnamon, Crisco. Everything was there. All she needed was the apples. She hummed as she put on her apron and walked toward the cellar. The door creaked as she opened it. She switched on the dim light, although it didn’t help much.

Footsteps sounded behind her. She turned. John. She should’ve known. “I don’t need your help,” she said.

“What do you need down there? I’ll get it for you.”

“I can get it myself.”

John rubbed his forehead. “Granny, please.”

But his grandmother planted her feet on the landing.

John hesitated. He never knew exactly what to do—if he should disregard her feelings and physically move her out of the way, or if he should allow her to continue, knowing she could easily fall and break a bone . . . .

If we were actually writing a story, we’d probably have more of a transition, but note what has happened in this example. First, we started from outside, slowly moving into the house. We were not attached to any characters, which immediately defined the narrator as independent of any one character. We slowly moved toward the characters (transition). Then we hovered over Mrs. Smith and eased our way into her head. Then we stepped back outside of her and hovered between her and John (the dialogue served as this transition). Then, when John rubbed his forehead, we took this opportunity to move into his head. Whew! A lot of things happened in this small section.

Note that in order to let our reader know we are using the omniscient point of view, we follow specific steps:
1 - We begin from a distance, careful not to be in any character’s head, revealing information in a way that a character would not think.
2 - We then move slowly toward the characters, although we may continue to hover above and simply report the action as it happens, or we may decide to ease into one of the characters’ heads.
3 – If we do enter a character’s head, we must first have a transition, which means we move closer to the character, concentrating on the action around him as though the narrator is standing right next to him; and then we must have an invitation, which moves us even closer to the character’s head. The invitation is done by having the character touch his face or head, speak, or mention something about his face or head. This is done quite invisibly to the untrained reader, but it allows the omniscient narrator to slide smoothly into a character’s head without the reader realizing that something technical has occurred to allow for such a smooth transition.

It is critically important for the writer to imagine the omniscient narrator as a physical entity. Because, even though he has superpowers, the omniscient narrator still must physically move from one location to another and from one character to another, and we as writers must account for this movement. We must always know exactly where our narrator is. Is he floating near the ceiling, looking down on the action? Is he standing in the corner? Is he right next to a character, ready to pop into his or her head at the first opportunity? Realize the omniscient narrator has the power to jump from inside the room to outside the building, but controlling that power means you move him there gently, step by step, creating a transition. One word of caution: although third person omniscient allows the most flexibility, it is difficult to manage. Besides visiting the heads of different characters, we can also see into the future or see things that none of the characters can see.

Even within third person omniscient, we should have only one viewpoint character at a time, only one character whose thoughts and mind we visit. We have the option of changing viewpoint characters, but we must do it carefully, preferably at a scene or chapter break. However, if we must switch “heads” within a scene, we should clue the reader to what we are doing and allow for a transition. I prefer to do this by ignoring the previous viewpoint character for a sentence or two, then have the new viewpoint character touch his face —rub his forehead, scratch his ear, any action as long as it involves his face or head —to clue the reader that this is our new “head.” Once the switch is made, stay with it. “Head-hopping” is confusing for the reader and should be done only when absolutely necessary.

During the late 19th century and early 20th century, the omniscient point of view was popular, and many books were written using it. Most notably may be Charles Dickens’ Tale of Two Cities. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness . . .” Today, most readers have little patience for editorializing and want to get one with the action. Most writers who use the omniscient point of view do so with little control. Bottom line: unless you thoroughly understand how to control this point of view, DO NOT USE IT.

Third Person Controlled Omniscient - Now, having said all that, and having seen every imaginable point of view (I think), I’ll have to admit that my favorite point of view is a combination of the controlled third person and the omniscient, which I will call the controlled omniscient point of view. The omniscient point of view carries much power—too much power—and taking advantage of all the power it allows is extremely difficult to handle. Therefore, the trick is to keep the omniscience subtle and not flaunt it. Select the narrator as your major viewpoint character who has just a few special powers. Pretend that the narrator is an invisible character who sees and hears everything IN THE ROOM OF YOUR SETTING FROM WHERE HE IS STANDING. He doesn’t bounce around from one location to another and he doesn’t bounce around from one character to another. He has the same limitations as any human, except he has the power to go inside of other characters’ heads—but only when “invited” or when he’s already a “pseudo” resident. Pretend that it takes great effort for him to enter another’s mind, so he does so only when necessary, and he never makes a leap directly from one mind to another—he must always return to his narrator role first. This ensures a proper transition.

A character can “invite” the narrator into his head by touching his face or head. This sends a subtle signal to the reader that the narrator is approaching the character’s brain. The narrator is a “pseudo” resident when he focuses on a particular character so that it is clear he is standing very close to that character, seeing and hearing and smelling what that character sees and hears and smells. Therefore, the transition into what the character is feeling or thinking appears natural and smooth. But even better, change viewpoint characters ONLY when there is a scene break or a chapter break, and make sure to establish your viewpoint character in the very first paragraph(s). And, to make your scene feel “complete,” make sure the last sentence of your scene is from your viewpoint character’s viewpoint.

Using a controlled omniscient point of view will allow you to see all the character’s expressions and actions without accounting for how the viewpoint character knew it. It will allow you to describe any character without using cheesy tricks like looking into the mirror or having him examine himself. And finally, it will sharpen your prose and remove that last hint of amateurism, letting the world know that yes, you are a professional writer and you can tell your story unimpeded by the rules made for a novice.

Oftentimes when we get a vague feeling that something isn’t right but can’t quite put our finger on it, the problem is a breach in point of view. This means we have inadvertently changed viewpoints or switched from one type of point of view to another. So study point of view. If you’re not happy with the way your story is reading, try changing the point of view or try changing your viewpoint character. And read and study as many quality books as you can, paying close attention to how the author handles point of view.

© 2010 Inspiration for Writers, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

Additional tips and techniques may be found at www.InspirationForWriters.com.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Grammar Guru: Self pronouns


Dear Grammar Guru,

Why does grammar check on MS Word so often underline the words himself or herself?
Also, I wanted to say, “This time the gossip came from his own sister.” Again, there was the green underline for the word “own”.

Signed,

Annoyed with Underlines




Dear Ms. Annoyed,

I can only speculate about MS Word's reason for underlining himself and herself. The -self pronouns may be either reflexive or intensive pronouns. They must have an antecedent--another noun or pronoun to refer to.

A reflexive pronoun is always the object of a verb, a preposition, or a verbal.

Examples:

The dectective disguised himself. (Himself is the object of the verb disguised.)

He relied on himself to solve the mystery. (Himself is the object of the preposition on.)

Intensive pronouns provide emphasis to a preceding noun or pronoun.

Example:

He did the work himself. Himself emphasizes that no one helped him.

Do not use -self pronouns alone (without another noun or pronoun to refer to).

Examples:
Correct: The detective and I talked. Incorrect: The dectective and myself talked. Myself has no noun or pronoun antecedent. Futhermore, myself is one of the subjects of talked. Would you say myself talked? Never!

Sometimes the -self pronouns are redundant. Try reading the sentence without the -self pronoun. Is it necessary?

You also asked about own in the sentence "This time the gossip came from his own sister." Own is redundant; his sister must obviously belong to him. So, omit own.
MSWord is a valuable tool, but it treats all documents as if they are business letters or academic papers.

Thanks for your questions. I hope these answers help.

Grammar Guru

Attributions (Dialogue Tags)

By Sandi Rog
Let's talk about those pesky dialogue tags, otherwise known as attributions. An attribution is "said." As in "he said, she said." If you read the following excerpt from The Master's Wall, you'll notice that there are no attributions. No, not one. In light of that fact, isn't it interesting that we knew who was talking the entire time, whether it was a soldier, David or his parents? How is that possible? Not one "said" word gave it away? How can that be?

Answer: If Character A's dialogue is in the same paragraph as the action of Character A, we'll know who's talking, so there's no reason to add "he/she said."

Attributions aren't "wrong." Using them doesn't mean your writing is poor. But if a beat of action can be used, that would be much better. Why? Beats of action can pull your reader deeper into your story. How does it do that? Beats give readers something to see, smell, touch, taste or hear; they reveal details about the character and the setting; they help eliminate useless words; and they can make the writing more active.

Notice below, we know who's talking because the action and the dialogue of each character is in the same paragraph:

"Let her go!" Abba pushed away from a soldier and lunged forward. "She has nothing to do with this!"

The third soldier rushed over, grabbed Abba and held him back. "Oh, really? That's not what we heard." He motioned toward the man touching Mamma. "Aulus, shouldn't convicts pay the full penalty for their crimes?"

The fewer attributions a writer uses, the better.

Here are some before and after examples:

BEFORE

"Let her go!" Abba shouted, pushing away from the soldier. "She has nothing to do with this!"

AFTER

"Let her go!" Abba pushed away from the soldier. "She has nothing to do with this!"

Can you feel the difference between these two lines? "Pushed" is more active than "pushing." It gives the writing more life. A part of the scene is played out with ongoing action; the scene moves forward. The exclamation mark shows that the character is shouting, so there's no reason to tell the readers that Abba is shouting by adding, "he shouted." Also, the sentence is shorter, giving it more punch, which adds to the tension of the scene.

But what about scenes that aren't supposed to have this kind of tension? Will eliminating attributions add tension to a scene that doesn't need it? Scenes will usually have tension, just a different kind.

Here's an example where the tension is beneath the surface, rather than an outside force:

"Well, I'm glad I don't have any sin." Alethea swung her legs as she sat on the wall. She thought to scoot in closer to David so her arm might brush against his. Instead, she basked in his scent of leather and pine.

David rested his elbows on his knees and watched her, but Alethea avoided his gaze. "No one is without sin." He leaned toward her. "No one."

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, but quickly refocused her attention on the horizon. "It doesn't make sense." She shrugged. "Why make someone die when he could clap his hands and say, 'Your sins are forgiven,' and be done with it?"

David stared at her for a while, his mouth closed as if tasting her words.

Shifting under his scrutinizing gaze, she leaned forward and watched the birds soar and dance on the air in front of them.

A gentle breeze caressed her cheek as David lifted her chin. He forced her to look at him. His blue eyes fixated on hers.

"Passion," he said.

Alethea took a long shuddering breath.

"What shows greater love?" He continued to hold her chin. "Someone who sacrifices himself to save your life, or just claps his hands?"

There are times you'll want your scene to move slowly, and adding an attribution will help slow the pace or create the right rhythm. This leads to my favorite subject: breaking the rules. Notice above how after the dialogue "Passion" one attribution is used, but it works to create the right rhythm.

Depending on how attributions are used, they can also become a form of telling.

I call the following "impossible attributions" because they create impossibilities.

Chime, deliver, breathe, repeat, seethe, spat, articulate, laugh, conclude, add, roar, state, counter, muse, roar, growl, exclaim, fume, explode, and the list goes on.

Why do these create impossibilities?

A person can't "chime, deliver, breathe, repeat, seethe, spat, articulate," a statement. These vices shout amateur to editors and agents (and if not, they should). Avoid them at all costs.

Here's a quote from Newgate Callender, in The New York Times Book Review:

Mr. (Robert) Ludlum has other peculiarities. For example, he hates the "he said" locution and avoids it as much as possible. Characters in The Bourne Ultimatum seldom “say” anything. Instead, they cry, interject, interrupt, muse, state, counter, conclude, mumble, whisper (Mr. Ludlum is great on whispers), intone, roar, exclaim, fume, explode, mutter. There is one especially unforgettable tautology: “’I repeat,’ repeated Alex.”

The book may sell in the billions, but it’s still junk.

The best thing to do with “said” is to cut it all together and replace it with an action. This will create more “showing” and less “telling.” It pulls us into the story and helps us become more acquainted with the characters. Also, as I said, if one character has dialogue and action in the same paragraph, we’ll automatically know who’s talking so there’s no need to "tell" us who's talking. But if you have to use “said,” then use “said” and not some impossible attribution that hack writers love.

Dave King and Rennie Browne's book, Self-Editing for Fiction Writers, goes into detail on this subject, as well as other important writing subjects.

Attributions aren't "wrong." Just use them with care.

Monday, November 30, 2009

Grammar Guru: Run-on Sentences

RUN-ON SENTENCES
by Grammar Guru Wilma Acree

Editors report that run-on sentences (also called run-together sentences, fused sentences, and comma splices) are the most frequent problem in manuscripts. A run-on sentence consists of two sentences jammed together as if they are one thought. Create a mental picture of two cars in a head-on crash, and you will see the effect a run-on sentence has on the reader.

Sentences often clash together when the second sentence begins with a pronoun or with a transitional word or phrase such as however. Sometimes the second sentence contains an example.

Run-on sentences can be corrected in several ways.

Gertrude Stein moved from America to Paris in 1902 she quickly became interested in impressionistic painting.

The pronoun she begins a second thought. Therefore, the sentence needs revision.

1. Break into two sentences.

Insert a period after 1902, and capitalize she.

2. Add a Coordinating conjunction (and, but, or).

Gertrude Stein moved from America to Paris in 1902, and she quickly became interested in impressionistic painting.

Notice the comma before the conjunction.

3. Make one of the sentences into a dependent clause.

Gertrude Stein, who moved from America to Paris in 1902, quickly became interested in impressionistic painting.

After you have written a story or article, search your manuscript for run-on sentences. Go to its end and work backwards. Read each sentence separately. This may help you find run-ons and other errors. Check each sentences for pronouns and ask yourself if the pronoun begins a second sentence. Look for transitional phrases such as however, in fact, nevertheless, etc. Does the transition signal the beginning of a second sentence?

If you have a grammar question for the Grammar Guru, please email it to IFWEditors@gmail.com. Put "Grammar Guru" as the subject.