I’ve said this before, and now I’m going to say it again.
Maybe not so nicely this time.
When your friend approaches you with a manuscript, hot off the printer and dripping ink, and your friend says to you “Hey, you! (says your friend to you) Tell me what you think of the choices I’ve (that would be your friend again) made in this thing. Choices like voice and diction and pacing and so forth (says your friend). Tell me what you think,” says your friend, that you’ve known all your life, when that happens, then answer the question. Did I mention that this is when a friend approaches you, someone you know in real life? You know, meatspace? Where the meat lives? Where we can see faces and hear tones and all that stuff? Did I mention that this is a friend? I think I did.
Most of the things we can do “right” or “wrong” in fiction are choices.
You choose to write in first-person present tense or third-person past tense or third-person future tense (oh, yes you can). You choose to write in a soft dreamy tone that’s supposed to mean your character is stoned. You choose to say “dollars” in one sentence and “money” in the next (yeah, guess where I’ve been), as in “I have three dollars. How much money do you have?” You choose all of the things that make your voice your voice, and your story your story. You choose diction, and syntax, and grammar, and tone, and pacing. You choose whether to include Character X’s viewpoint or not. You choose which infinitives to boldly split.
The fact that your choices were not the ones I would have made do not make you wrong. They make you a different writer than me. Maybe better, maybe worse, maybe just different, but different. If we all made the same choices, we’d all write the same story, and the art of fiction would have stopped right after Oodge told his story about the saber-tooth. Fortunately, time split right about then, and we all took the other branch. Oodge and his buddies are still sitting around that same fire, waiting for someone to make up a new fable.
Point is, you can discuss the finer points of choices with friends, but only in the light of making choices. You can’t simply say things like “Caftan is a strange word. Say ‘tunic’.” It was a choice! There is nothing “wrong” with it! Say “Caftan. That’s an odd word, isn’t it?” and I’ll tell you why I used it, and we can go from there, but don’t simply assume that you’re right and I’m wrong.
And it only gets worse when you try to “correct” total strangers.
People you’ve never heard of, never talked to. You have no idea why they might have said what they did, but you know they’re wrong? Come on.
Time out to go breathe.
Ok, back again. Calm, I’m calm.
“I have three dollars, how many dollars do you have?” John asked Jane.
Bet you didn’t know that’s better than the first quote about money, given above, did you? See, the thing is, you apparently can’t use “dollars” once and then use “money” the next time. Maybe it was supposed to be like this:
“I have three money, how many money do you have?” John asked Jane.
Whatever.
Writing is composed of matters of choice at least as much as matters of “right” or “wrong.”
And you can’t even begin to discuss whether a choice was right or wrong until you know the goals of the person who made the choice. If the goal is to show a woman in a long, drapey, open-bottomed garment that can be seen into from below, then “tunic” is wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. And if the goal is to establish a certain sense of foreignness, then using the “foreign” name for money is the right choice. Having established that, the use of the word “money” is then the better choice. Establish what the writer wanted to do, then talk about choices. In other words, the only rightness or wrongness for choices is in relation to their success.
When someone presents a piece of writing online, and that piece of writing is clear, concise, and well-written, with a strong voice and a powerful presence, if there was a choice made that was different than the choice you would have made, here are your options:
- Examine the piece carefully, see why the choice was made, and see what you can learn from it. Ask questions if you must, but ask them nicely, from a position of respect. Otherwise, shut up.
- Don’t examine the piece. Don’t learn anything. But shut up.
Rant over.
Excellent points. I’ve had people go around and around with me because they either:
A) Asked me to look at something they did, then didn’t like it when I questioned their choices about things. I mostly only point these things out to make sure *they* know the rationale behind that choice. If they do, and it works in context, great! If not, maybe you should think twice about it.
B) Looked at something I did, and get pissy because I didn’t do it exactly how they thought I should’ve. Hey, it’s my story. If you have a suggestion for a way to improve it, don’t be upset if I don’t take your advice. If I disagree with you, that’s that. I am pretty open-minded, but that doesn’t mean I lean whichever way the wind blows.
I have seen quite a bit of B, mostly directed at other people. One of the problems I had on Bookzek was people who would comment on something as if they had written it–”this is what *I* would have done.” No, I don’t care what *you* would have done. I want to know what you think of how *I* did it! I think a lot of folks simply can’t tell the difference.
.-= gorzek´s last blog ..Test of Time: Chapters 1-3 =-.