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Weekly Writing Workshop: Diction

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Last time (here’s a link to the series so far) I talked about finding your voice as a writer. In doing so, I broke voice down to diction (word choice) and syntax (the order in which you choose to place those words). Today, I want to take a closer look at ways we can improve the diction part of our voice as writers.

Have you ever been offended, not by what someone said, but by the way they said it? Maybe, their diction was a little too harsh, informal, or crass. This idea works in reverse as well. I’ve often thought, “I totally disagree with what you said, but by god did you say it well.”

Imagine that you’ve been waiting around for thirty minutes for a friend to show up at your place. When they do, they say one of the following.

“Sorry, I’m late. I stopped to pick up some food on the way over.”

Or

“Sorry, I’m late. I grabbed some food on my way.”

While you’re still peeved at them either way, the second option has a better chance of being less abrasive. Why? Look at their word choice. “Stopped” feels slow. There is no motion here. Whereas “grabbed” not only shows motion but hurried motion. “Grab” is a blur. It shows a sense of urgency. When someone is late, we want to know that they were late despite rushing not because they weren’t rushing. Likewise, if you look at “picked up” you see a slow process broken into two words. Picking something up is a careful, deliberate, gentle process. You pick up an infant. You grab the Arkenstone (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sKFsyC3gzC8) because you don’t want to take a trip down the digestive system of a dragon (http://www.redbubble.com/people/motiv-lady/works/11711183-dragon-poop-shitting-toilet-cool-comic?p=t-shirt) .

Perhaps my favorite example is “rock” vs “stone.” To everyone outside of a geology department, these two words mean the same thing. They have the same denotation (literal meaning), but they have very different connotations (impressions). Picture a rock. It’s rough, jagged, dirty. Now, picture a stone. It’s smooth, polished, and round. While we can chalk this difference up to common usage in part, sound also plays a part here. While I won’t get into the “why” today—that’s another post altogether—for now, notice how both of these words sound. “Rock” sounds rough, hard. “Stone” sounds smooth, refined. Pay attention to how your words sound. Pay attention to their denotation and connotation. While I could say, “Sally’s dinner was a culinary abortion.” It’s probably not the best use of diction.

In part, the way a writer’s diction affects us has been wired into our brains through evolution. If I write:

“Tim went quickly to the store.”

Or

“Tim ran to the store.”

Which one hits you harder, grabs your attention more? By using more words to say the same thing, I literally slowed down how quickly you could process the information in the first sentence. This slows down the action. In addition, the first sentence is counting on the adverb “quickly” to create a sense of speed. Verbs are always stronger than adjectives or adverbs. Through evolution our brains have been hardwired to notice movement. It’s what made the difference between getting dinner and being dinner for our ancestors. Verbs grab our attention. Thus, “run” feels faster than “quickly.”

Take a look at one more example.

“Sally was laughing a lot and really loudly.”

Or

“Sally was bursting with laughter.”

Which of these gives you a clearer image? The second one most likely. Notice how much energy there is in the verb “bursting” versus “a lot and really loudly.”

While every writer should have their own unique voice developed from their own literary influences, there is a lot we can do to ensure that those voices are as polished and as effective as possible. Here are some tips to consider as you work on developing the diction side of your voice as a writer.

  1. Verbs are stronger than adverbs or adjectives.
  2. In general, you’ll want to select specific words over abstract ones.
  3. Consider the denotation of the words you’re using. Will your audience fully understand the words you’ve chosen? How much work are you asking your reader to do? How much are they willing to do?
  4. Consider the connotation of the words you’re using. While questioning my marriage isn’t necessarily a bad thing (I could be asking questions like, “Why is Niki so damned amazing?”), the word “questioning” has taken on a distinctively negative connotation.
  5. What level of formality do you need? Contractions and slang create a less formal feeling.
  6. Avoid using big words just to try and sound smart. If you use them incorrectly, you’ll look dumb. If you use them correctly, you can end up looking pompous.
  7. Try to avoid using hyperboles. People don’t “always” do something. Likewise “everyone” hardly think the same thing. Ask yourself, “Does my character really never think about her childhood?”
  8. Don’t use two words when one word will do.

The list of tips for developing good diction could go on for pages, but these are the ones that I’ve found the most helpful.

For this week’s prompt, write a scene without thinking about your diction. Just free-write it. Make sure that you double space it. Then, go back and examine your diction. Look at it like an editor. Are there places where you can exchange two adjectives for a better verb? Is your character speaking to formally/informally? Are there any words your audience might not understand? Are there any that could be interpreted in a way you didn’t intend?

Use the comment box below to let me know how it goes. I’ll look forward to hearing from you.

Best,

Darren

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Weekly Writing Workshop: Finding Your Voice

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What is/How do You Find Your Voice as a Writer?

Floating in some cosmic space between our brains and the realm of the muses lies each of our voices. Like some basterdised Disney patronous, they dance in the void waiting for us to “discover” them.

As great as that might sound to some people, it is—of course—utter and complete crap. Still, this is how most of my writing teachers up until grad school made it seem. In the seven years that I spent teaching college writing courses, I often saw colleagues—intentionally or unintentionally—propagate this idea.

I’d hear things like “It will just come to you the more that you do it” and “open up and let your personality fall onto the page.” This leaves the serious student and/or aspiring writer with no clue how to go about finding their voice or even what a writer’s voice is.

In reality (a lovely place of vivid images and concrete details) a writer’s voice doesn’t just come to them. It takes study and work to develop your voice as a writer.

But, before you can hunt for something, you first have to know what it is (unless you’re hunting for the inner story in a piece of creative nonfiction, but that’s a different post altogether).

A writer’s voice, in its simplest form, is their diction and syntax. That is, the words they choose (diction) and the order they choose to put them in on the page (syntax). It’s worth noting that diction is not the same thing as vocabulary. One (vocabulary) is the pool of words from which you can draw, the other (diction) is the words you choose to pull out of that pool. Having a large vocabulary doesn’t guarantee good diction, and someone with a small vocabulary may still have strong diction.

This same basic formula (Diction + Syntax = Voice) can be applied to our metaphorical speaking voices. Think of three people you know. Now, imagine that you’ve asked each of them to a movie which they have no interest in seeing. How would they each turn you down? My wife, the ever radiant Obsessive Bookseller, would probably say “Well, I’d love to do something with you, just not that.” While my friend Jared might say, “Oh, hell yeah! Then you can bash rusty nails into my eyes!” At its core, they are both saying basically the same thing but through vastly different voices.

So, how can a writer find their voice (actually a sophisticated and skilled writer can have multiple voices, but, again, that’s a future post)? Besides praying to the spirts of Tolkien and Fitzgerald for it to spontaneously appear inside your skull, you can follow former US Poet Laureate Billy Collins‘ advice. Speaking at the Whitehouse’s poetry day event, Collins said, “Your voice has an external source…It is lying in other peoples’ [writing]. It is lying on the shelves of the library. To find your voice you need to read deeply…you have to look outside yourself. Read widely. Read all the [writing] you can get your hands on.” He went on to add, “In your reading, you’re searching for something…You’re searching for [writers] that make you jealous.” Here, Collins is speaking about finding your voice as a poet, but it applies to any form of writing. I would add that you should search for writing that disgusts you as well. Find what turns you on and off, literarily (not literally) speaking of course.

As is often the case, the truth is that you have to knuckle down and do some hard work. Read a lot. Read diversely. Read like a writer, and by that I mean that you should analyze the writing as you read it. When you find something you like, something Collins would say makes you jealous, try to figure out why you like it. When you read a scene that blows you away, mark it, reread it, analyze why it blew you away. How is the writer doing that? What tools are they using and how are they using them?

That’s the way it seems to work across mediums. Your favorite musician went through it. It’s how they discovered their influences. Great visual artists in every age have gone through it. All of these people understood the importance of respecting the craft. They understood what it means to be a student of their art.

Because writing is second nature for most people today, aspiring writers often take craft for granted. Or, worse, they feel that studying how other writers did it well will rob them of their authenticity, of their voice (stop and think about how counterproductive that reasoning is). I’ve actually had, on multiple occasions, students sit across from me and claim that they want to be a writer because they read King or Rowling and thought “Gee that seems easy, I bet I can do that.”

So, here is your prompt for this week. Make a list of your five favorite scenes/moments from whatever you’ve read recently. Then, go reread those passages. Take notes! Figure out what the author has done to make those moments so powerful.

I’d love to hear how this prompt goes for you! Leave a comment letting me know.

Best,
Darren

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Introducing the Weekly Writing Workshop!

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Some of you may know that I am an aspiring writer, but what you may not know is that I am also married to an accomplished one. We have been wanting to team up for a couple years now to combine his vast experience with writing and teaching with my love of learning and improving my craft. It is my pleasure to share my blog space with this amazingly talented person (I wouldn’t share it with just anyone – this blog is my pride and joy), and I can say that with only a little biasedness because his work speaks for itself. The Weekly Writing Workshop will be featured here for the next several weeks, and our hope is that all of you aspiring authors out there find it helpful. -Niki

An Introduction to Your Host

Welcome to the first instalment of the Obsessive Bookseller’s Weekly Writing Workshop! My name is Darren M. Edwards, and I’m excited for this opportunity to discuss the craft of writing.

In about ten minutes anybody could create a writing blog and offer you their opinion as “expert” advice. I’m not claiming to be an expert, but I have had a lot of experience writing and studying the craft of writing which I’d like to share with you.

I published my first essay in 2007 and have since published poetry and essays in dozens of places ranging from trade publications to University literary journals. In 2009 I received a master’s degree in literature and writing from Utah State University where I wrote a spiritual memoir for my master’s thesis. Between my time as an editorial assistant at Isotope: A Journal of Literary Nature and Science Writing and serving as the editor in chief of both New Graffiti Publishing and The Creative magazine, I have over six years of publishing experience. For seven years, I taught college courses in composition, world literature, creative writing, and publication production. I’m currently writing a space opera, Rogue Noble, which I hope to start pitching in the fall, and I’m excited to announce that my first book, a creative nonfiction exploration of Utah’s sport climbing history, will be published by Arcadia Publishing & The History Press sometime in 2016.

Our world is full of great writing: Literary fiction, speculative fiction, poetry, creative nonfiction. You can spend a sunny afternoon sitting under a tree reading Annie Dillard’s beautifully reflective writing. A dark and stormy night could be the perfect time to delve into some H.P. Lovecraft or curl up in a blanket and drift off to J.K. Rowling’s vast world of witchcraft and wizardry. And, whether you’re watching a performance poem by Patricia Smith on YouTube or losing yourself in the imagery of T.S. Elliot, poetry is very much alive.

There is a false notion floating around that these genres have little to nothing to do with each other. Why would a novelist ever read or study poetry? Why read Pratchett if your genre of choice is creative nonfiction? Other than becoming a more well-rounded person, this kind of literary cross training can do a great deal to strengthen your writing in your genre of choice.

For example, if the characters in your space opera feel flat, studying the way Montaigne or Dody weave reflection into their imagery could help you fix that. Regardless of genre, it’s a good idea to visit Hemingway if your writing is too complex or Faulkner if it’s overly simple.

So, once a week, we’re going to dig into one element of writing to explore what these other genres can add to your speculative fiction. We’ll see how basic concepts like voice or setting can hold new insights when you come at them from another angle.

As you comment and ask questions at the end of each post, I hope that this column can serve as the introduction to a discussion on the craft of writing. And, while I have many topics which I look forward to covering, I’m always open to suggestions and look forward to hearing what elements of your writing you’d like to improve.

I’ll also throw out a prompt related to what we’ve discussed each week. So, here is your first prompt. Pick up something you might not usually read. You don’t have to read the whole thing (though that’s not a bad idea) but what you do read, read it like a writer. Then try to mimic that style for a paragraph or a page. Let me know about your experience in the comments.

Best,
Darren