Showing posts with label diction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label diction. Show all posts

Thursday, August 25, 2016

GUEST POST: From Diction to Rhetoric to Writing

by
Kirk Hazen

In early January 1999, an aide to the mayor of Washington D.C. used the word “niggardly” in reference to city funds while speaking with two employees. Ten days after this usage, the aide, David Howard, resigned. The term “niggardly” means “in a stingy manner,” appropriate for a budget, so how did the use of this word lead to his resignation? Context and audience conspired to create misinterpretations of Howard’s utterance: his immediate audience was offended because they thought he had said the N-word. Once those rumors began about racial animosity, especially in a city office already divided by racial tension, they were unstoppable.

Diction is an important skill and one that gets better with practice, but choosing the right word is only one step in the process of crafting the best writing. Unless you are only writing for yourself, you must get into other people’s minds and assess how they view the world. On the large scale, this would require writers to be both sociologists and psychologists; in practice, walking a few feet in other people’s shoes is easier today than it has ever been.

Several modern word tools can benefit writers, and I use all of these tools in my own writing. These tools include electronic dictionaries, Ngrams, and corpora. Although there are several high-quality paper-based dictionaries (I recommend the American Heritage Dictionary), the benefits of an electronic dictionary are sizeable. Most importantly, these dictionaries save time with easy searching. Even the dictionary on my computer allows me to easily switch between dictionary and thesaurus so that I can fully flesh out a word’s etymology (its word history) and its regular ambience (the kind of context it normally occurs in). With these qualities you can better discern how others will understand the word. Keep in mind that all modern dictionaries (and there are hundreds of them for different specialties) are surveys of usage. That distilled usage is what the writers need to understand to be fully conscious of their writing.

Ngrams are another tool for understanding how words are used and what they might mean for different audiences. The Ngram viewer (https://books.google.com/ngrams) is a tool developed on Google Books that calculates and plots the frequency of words and phrases. There is a simple set of instructions (https://books.google.com/ngrams/info) that will allow you to search billions of words between 1800 and 2000. For any phrase or word comparison an author is deciding upon, the frequency and contexts for usage are quickly findable over the last 200 years.  

If authors need a more in-depth and nuanced assessment of the words in question, then searchable corpora are the answer. A corpus (plural, corpora) is a body of writings. Searchable corpora have been parsed so that most words are tagged with part of speech markers to allow for highly specialized searches (e.g. what adjectives come before woman/man?). At BYU, the http://corpus.byu.edu/ website can connect authors to searches through hundreds of billions of words in American and British English as well as 45 billion words in Spanish. Perhaps the two most useful corpora for writers are the Corpus of Contemporary American English (COCA) and the Corpus of Historical American English (COHA). For example, COCA can be searched by genre: spoken, fiction, popular magazines, newspapers, and academic texts, so, for example, researching authors can see that over the last century, the word “mauve” is most frequently used in fiction and magazines, but rarely comes up in speech or academic contexts. What writers do with such information is a rhetorical choice.

Consider the HBO miniseries Lewis and Clark, where modern writers needed to develop a script about the early 1800s but one which speaks to modern audiences. Pitfalls abound in such writing. If a word like “golden boy” sounds old fashioned to us, that might work for modern audiences, but it was not available until 1937, much too late for Lewis and Clark. If these former military men are going to curse on their dangerous cross-country expedition, should they sound more like Yosemite Sam or Deadpool? Cursing around 1800 sounded more like Yosemite Sam (“Tarnation!”) than any modern cursing, and the sexualized swearing of modern writing did not arise until the early 1900s. Such choices are artistically rhetorical choices where writers balance between historical accuracy and audience impact.

The interpretation of words changes over time, and those changes are outside of authors’ control. Consider the case of one of my English department colleague’s tale of a suspect phrase: In reading Anthony Trollope’s The Way We Live Now (1875) the European heroine (who speaks English, French, and German) tells her American suitor that she will not marry him until she sees his big house in San Francisco, saying “I like you very well, but I’m not going to take a leap in the dark, and I’m not going to marry a pig in a poke.” My colleague and I were both surprised that Trollope would have a character use the phrase “pig in a poke.” For both of us, the phrase is rural and colloquial and certainly American. But a bit of research shows that its usage in the mid-1800s was higher in England than in the US:

 

(To enlarge the photo, click on it. To see the original image click here.)
 
For modern writers to reach beyond themselves to other contexts and other voices, choices about what words mean for particular audiences loom large. Thankfully, modern tools allow authors to make informed rhetorical choices more quickly than ever before.



Biography:

Kirk Hazen is Professor of Linguistics in the Department of English at WVU and winner of the 2014-2015 Benedum Distinguished Scholar Award in the Humanities. Hazen has been the founding director of the West Virginia Dialect Project since 1998, and he has been writing professionally since 1993. His most recent book is An Introduction to Language (Wiley 2015), and he can be found on Twitter @DrDialect. 

Thursday, April 7, 2016

The Verbosity Cure

by
Charlotte Firbank-King



We all know how to tell a story. But just because anthropologists say Homo sapiens (Latin: wise man—but that’s debatable given the state of our planet) are storytelling apes, doesn’t mean we know how to transfer a story to paper. An articulate person with a mellifluous voice can make a good story sound great. But once we put pen to paper, we must follow the rules of the craft.

First, GRAMMAR.

Creative writers are allowed some license to tweak and reshape the content to convey a meaning, but we need to learn the rules and correct use of grammar before we get the badge allowing us to modify those rules. If you don’t have a solid understanding of grammar, take a class or do some studying on your own. Nothing will kill a story faster than poor grammar or punctuation.

Now, WORDS:

Use the KISS principle—Keep It Simple, Stupid.

Examine each sentence with the diligence of a hobo sifting through a garbage can. If a paragraph uses five words, cut it down to two or three. If you’ve taken half a page to convey an image, cut it down to ten or fifteen words. If absolutely necessary, you can add a few more words later.

Read a section aloud. Do you trip over words? Or did you use rhymes or alliteration that draws the reader’s attention away from the story?

Then ask someone to read it aloud to you. If he stumbles or has to read a section again, there’s probably a problem with how a sentence or paragraph was constructed. Then listen carefully to how he reads it and take note. People often, subconsciously, translate written words from how they are written to how they are said comfortably or smoothly.

Examine every sentence in this manner. If even one sentence doesn’t pass muster, the whole scene could fall flat.

Words should be chosen because they express a meaning, not because they impress readers. Readers don’t care that you spent hours going through a thesaurus looking for the most impressive word to show how literate you are. Individual words should never draw attention to themselves or be more important than the story. Your reader JUST WANTS A STORY that doesn’t require a dictionary to decipher the words used to tell it.

Make every word count, and I mean EVERY word. There is no such thing as, “Oh, that will do.” Edit and edit again, making sure you’ve said what needs to be said using the exact right words to say it.

When conveying an emotion, again, brevity is the key.

His eyebrows dipped, and his eyes flashed as his mouth tightened to a hard line.

We get it. He’s angry.

His mouth tightened or His eyes flashed or He glared will convey the same message and we’ve cut our description from fifteen words to two or three. It may not sound as impressive, but that’s where creativity comes in. Find your own way to say it using as few words as possible.

Conjunctions are invisible words, but even those can exhaust a reader.

The old man walked along the road, and every step seemed to jar his body, and he was also weary to the depths of his disturbed soul as his rheumy eyes shifted back and forth across the verge.
Instead, say:

Shoulders slumped, the old man shuffled along the road, his rheumy eyes searching the verge.

Let your writing speak for itself. If the old man’s shoulders are slumped, then he’s despondent. Shuffling indicates possible pain or weariness. It’s not that difficult to cut this sentence from thirty-eight words to fifteen—and we could even dump “his” if we wanted.

Edit. Then edit again and again. Eliminate as many unnecessary words as possible, especially the easy ones like “that” and “had.”

Test yourself—pick any paragraph from your manuscript, count the words, then see how many you can remove and still convey your meaning. Go one step further and take out all the adjectives and adverbs. Then put one or two back. In other words, slim the paragraph to an anorexic state, then fatten it slightly to perfection.

Verbose means using more words than needed to express something. Don’t let your precious story suffer from verbosity.

Remember, we have professional editors on staff who can help you recover from a severe case of verbosity. It’s what we do.

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

GUEST BLOG: Frightening People, Terrifying Places, and Scary Things...

 
by Robert W. Walker
Author of Flesh Wars, Bloodscreams, Abaddon & more


How do we, as authors, get to the level of proficiency that readers send us comments like, “While I read your books, I have to put them out at night—on the porch”, or “I literally threw your book across the room, but crawled over later and finished it”?

That kind of compliment is music to the ears of suspense and horror authors, who are like big kids anxious to frighten our readers; we jump from the pages to shock you. But how do we manage it?

If we can frighten readers through use of our characters, our settings, and our props, then by all means we are turning our people, places, and things to good advantage and full-on use. We get there by means of the useful notion that the devil is in the details. Imagine, if you will, a child’s story—maybe Three Billy Goats Gruff or Charlotte’s Web, for that matter. In the one, we are convinced there is a troll beneath every bridge anxious to eat anything daring to cross it. Then the goat brothers sacrifice one another to the monster . . . creepy!

In the other tale, we have a spider coming to the rescue of a pig, and Charlotte and Wilbur have a full-blown relationship. The characters are fully realized—so much so that they come alive for the mesmerized reader. How can this be?

Details can sell us on any preposterous notion, as in my answer to spontaneous human combustion: creating a creature who smokes people the way we smoke cigarettes in my Flesh Wars books, or my witches in Abaddon who possess a young boy and direct him to become a serial killer. 

The reader is convinced to suspend disbelief through the careful planting of detail atop detail that uses all five senses and sometimes the sixth sense. It requires long and torturous rewrites to fully develop a scary person (antagonist or creature), a scary setting (loco-location), and frightful props (from ax, to cleaver, to Stryker saw).

Naming of names—be it people, places, or props—is also a way to get that fright factor working. Names are scarily specific—like Stryker saw—notice it gets capitalized as names should. The Lincoln Towers underground parking lot becomes even scarier as a modern-day haunted place due to the name, the specific location at Lincoln and Belmont in Chicago. (Notice more caps?) 

It is incumbent upon the modern author to find modern places to haunt, like a museum of modern art after hours, or a trailer park, or a single trailer in that park or … fill in the blank. Locations—and detailed locations at that—win the day when we wish to terrify.

In fact, it is true of any good writing that we want to be specific—all good writing is detailed to the nth degree; it is thesaurus-ing a mood, a point, a feeling, a wound, or a bleed out. We cannot get away with simply saying “it was hot” or “it was cold”—not by a long stretch—as we need to use every word possible that comes with heat (hot, searingly so), which must include sweltering, sweat, perspiration, and boiling, as well. For cold, we need to muster all the words at our command that show frigid, icy, ice-pick-shaped crystals beneath the nails painted with acrylic chartreuse, as in a fun house for my PSI Blue and Deja Blue.

So if there is a secret to scary writing, can it be that simple? Yes, it can, and yes, it is. As Stephen King puts it, “If you can’t legitimately scare the reader, go then for the gross out.” But even the gross out requires great attention to DETAIL.



About Robert Walker:

Award-winning author and graduate of Northwestern University, ROBERT W. WALKER created his highly acclaimed INSTINCT and EDGE SERIES between 1982 and 2005. Rob since then has penned his award-winning historical series featuring Inspector Alastair Ransom with CITY FOR RANSOM (2006), SHADOWS IN THE WHITE CITY (2007), and CITY OF THE ABSENT (2008), and most recently placed Ransom on board the Titanic in a hybrid historical/science fiction epic entitled Titanic 2012 – Curse of RMS Titanic. Rob’s next book, DEAD ON, is a PI revenge tale and a noir set in modern day Atlanta. More recently he has written Bismarck 2013, a historical horror title, The Edge of Instinct, the 12th Instinct Series, and a short story collection entitled Thriller Party of 8 – the one that got away. Rob’s historical suspense CHILDREN of SALEM, while a historical romance and suspense novel, exposes the violent nature of mankind via the politics of witchcraft in grim 1692 New England, a title that some say only Robert Walker could craft—romance amid the infamous witch trials. Robert currently resides in Charleston, West Virginia with his wife, children, pets, all somehow normal. For more on Rob’s published works, see www.RobertWalkerbooks.com, www.HarperCollins.com, or www.amazon.com/kindle books. He maintains a presence on Facebook and Twitter as well.

If you want to check out the titles mentioned in this blog, here are the links:

Flesh Wars 1
Abaddon
PSI Blue
Deja Blue