There's an old saying in the writing world that the difference between truth and fiction is that fiction has to make sense. This is why research is so important in fiction writing. When I cite anachronisms, spelling errors, and other problems in a manuscript, 90% of the time, it's an error that could have been corrected with a little research.
Research is the writer's best friend. I spend a lot of time urging writers to double-check their research. Why? Because in minutes, with the magic of the Internet and my vast library of research books, I discovered a glitch in the story's timeline, the character's procedure, or a historical inaccuracy that cannot be ignored. Sometimes, what I find throws off the rest of the story, and I understand if an author's first reaction is, "I don't want to change that. It'll mean totally revising the manuscript." Yes, it's disappointing that a scene that hinges on three hundred pages is illogical or impossible. Yes, I commiserate with an author's need to protect his/her baby from deep cuts. You've already spent so much time on the story, finally feel it's perfect, and now I come along and rip it to shreds. So, of course, the author feels too protective to take a step back, consider my comments as helpful, and rise to the challenge. Since I'm a freelance editor, I don't have the power to make a writer follow my suggestions. All I can do is strongly advise. To opt against making changes is the author's prerogative, but an author shouldn't be surprised if that decision doesn't endear the book to readers.
What I discover too often are writers who write the facts around their story, rather than writing their story around the facts. Savvy readers will know the difference and will lose respect for the author who doesn't know the difference.
Last year, I wrote a post about the best habits for doing research. You can read it here. I urge you to do so and to follow these habits before committing to your story.
Showing posts with label Word Usage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Word Usage. Show all posts
Sunday, June 30, 2013
Saturday, June 8, 2013
The Need for Etymology When Writing Historical Fiction
For those who aren't familiar with the term, etymology is the origin of words. I'm in the midst of judging a contest, and my entries are in the historical category. I love judging, by the way. It gives me a chance to read some stellar works (I've seen some amazing stories and even collected new favorite authors from the contest circuit) and if the work is less-than-stellar, I have the opportunity to provide an author with the chance to improve.Today's post is one of those Public Service Announcements. Don't Let This Happen to You:
Last night, I picked up an entry and began to read. Within the first ten pages, I'd stumbled over four words that didn't seem accurate for the time period. A quick flip to my etymology references confirmed what I suspected: all four phrases were nineteenth century in origin, while the setting of the entry is six hundred years earlier. The editor in me cringed. Four? In ten pages? What else am I going to discover as I dig deeper into the manuscript? Because right there, the author lost me. He or she clearly didn't do the research and I'm now going to consider every phrase that leaps out at me as anachronistic.
Now, of course, I don't expect the dialogue in a modern book (regardless of historical setting) to read like a Shakespearean play, but at the same time, don't use 19th century slang (or even 16th century slang!) in a 13th century story. It takes seconds to look up the origin of a phrase. Those of us who know these things (and readers who flock to the same historical time period over and over do so because they *do* know these things) don't easily forgive that kind of "lazy writing." It makes us wonder, what else did the author screw up? And once that happens, the reader's no longer engaged in the story.
Some helpful websites that every historical author should have bookmarked:
The Online Etymology Dictionary http://www.etymonline.com/
Dictionary.com http://dictionary.reference.com/
The Big List http://www.wordorigins.org/index.php/big_list/
Etymylogically Speaking http://www.westegg.com/etymology/
Last night, I picked up an entry and began to read. Within the first ten pages, I'd stumbled over four words that didn't seem accurate for the time period. A quick flip to my etymology references confirmed what I suspected: all four phrases were nineteenth century in origin, while the setting of the entry is six hundred years earlier. The editor in me cringed. Four? In ten pages? What else am I going to discover as I dig deeper into the manuscript? Because right there, the author lost me. He or she clearly didn't do the research and I'm now going to consider every phrase that leaps out at me as anachronistic.
Now, of course, I don't expect the dialogue in a modern book (regardless of historical setting) to read like a Shakespearean play, but at the same time, don't use 19th century slang (or even 16th century slang!) in a 13th century story. It takes seconds to look up the origin of a phrase. Those of us who know these things (and readers who flock to the same historical time period over and over do so because they *do* know these things) don't easily forgive that kind of "lazy writing." It makes us wonder, what else did the author screw up? And once that happens, the reader's no longer engaged in the story.
Some helpful websites that every historical author should have bookmarked:
The Online Etymology Dictionary http://www.etymonline.com/
Dictionary.com http://dictionary.reference.com/
The Big List http://www.wordorigins.org/index.php/big_list/
Etymylogically Speaking http://www.westegg.com/etymology/
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Choosing the (Im)Perfect Word
Recently, I was reading a work by a much-loved author and I came across the sentence, "He smelt the smoke in the autumn air."
Smelt?
Okay, so technically, it's a perfectly acceptable word in the context of the sentence. But when I hear (or read) smelt, I automatically think of the fish. Or the ore. "Smelt" as a past tense of "smell" is the last option my brain conjures up. This jolts me out of the story as I have to ask, What's wrong with "smelled"?
Someone else I know can't read that a character "snickered" without thinking about horses. Laugh, chuckle, chortle, guffaw, if they must, but "snicker" just doesn't work for her.
Another reader asked me if "hared" was a real word (as in, "He hared off in pursuit of the child.") For the record, yes, it's a real word. It means to run like a hare.
A while back, I read a book that I didn't care for. One of the biggest problems for me was that the protagonist kept calling the paparazzi, "paps" and every time I read it, I felt like I should be making my annual OB/GYN appointment.
As writers, we're often torn between keeping our prose simple and coming up with that perfect word or description that will define an action or characteristic without the heavy use of adjectives and adverbs. It's a fine line we dance upon. And sometimes we stumble. When we stumble, our readers also stumble.
The thing is, we don't always know. I mean "smelt" went past the author and her editor, so who am I to say she should have gone with "smelled" instead? Maybe where they live, smelt has nothing to do with fish or ore.
That one reader who has trouble with "snickered" is probably in the minority. Right? You tell me if that particular term bothers you. I have to admit since I heard her argument, I, too, now think of horses when I see the word. <shrug!> The power of suggestion...
"Hared" is a rare word choice, but I see "rabbited" a lot and it's basically the same definition. Whereas "hared" can be confused with hard or hated by a reader, "rabbited" is pretty straight-forward.
Paps? That one's just unforgivable in my book.
What to do?
Well, editors have an acronym for this: KISS. Keep It Simple, Stupid.
Don't use "queried" when "asked" will do.
If you're going to use a new or unique word, make sure it can't be confused with a totally different, more common term that has a similar or the same spelling.
Rare is rarely better than common.
Your story is what makes your book unique, not how many words you look up in your thesaurus.
Smelt?
Okay, so technically, it's a perfectly acceptable word in the context of the sentence. But when I hear (or read) smelt, I automatically think of the fish. Or the ore. "Smelt" as a past tense of "smell" is the last option my brain conjures up. This jolts me out of the story as I have to ask, What's wrong with "smelled"?
Someone else I know can't read that a character "snickered" without thinking about horses. Laugh, chuckle, chortle, guffaw, if they must, but "snicker" just doesn't work for her.
Another reader asked me if "hared" was a real word (as in, "He hared off in pursuit of the child.") For the record, yes, it's a real word. It means to run like a hare.
A while back, I read a book that I didn't care for. One of the biggest problems for me was that the protagonist kept calling the paparazzi, "paps" and every time I read it, I felt like I should be making my annual OB/GYN appointment.
As writers, we're often torn between keeping our prose simple and coming up with that perfect word or description that will define an action or characteristic without the heavy use of adjectives and adverbs. It's a fine line we dance upon. And sometimes we stumble. When we stumble, our readers also stumble.
The thing is, we don't always know. I mean "smelt" went past the author and her editor, so who am I to say she should have gone with "smelled" instead? Maybe where they live, smelt has nothing to do with fish or ore.
That one reader who has trouble with "snickered" is probably in the minority. Right? You tell me if that particular term bothers you. I have to admit since I heard her argument, I, too, now think of horses when I see the word. <shrug!> The power of suggestion...
"Hared" is a rare word choice, but I see "rabbited" a lot and it's basically the same definition. Whereas "hared" can be confused with hard or hated by a reader, "rabbited" is pretty straight-forward.
Paps? That one's just unforgivable in my book.
What to do?
Well, editors have an acronym for this: KISS. Keep It Simple, Stupid.
Don't use "queried" when "asked" will do.
If you're going to use a new or unique word, make sure it can't be confused with a totally different, more common term that has a similar or the same spelling.
Rare is rarely better than common.
Your story is what makes your book unique, not how many words you look up in your thesaurus.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Confusable Words
Tonight, I'll be hosting a workshop at a local library on mastering the basics for fiction writers. It's a fairly popular workshop because there are so many wanna-be writers out there. One of the things I cover in this 2-hour PowerPoint presentation are thirty of the most commonly misused words. Whether it's due to confusion with homonyms or writing too quickly, we all have those brain blip moments where we mean one thing, but write something else instead. That's one reason why an editor is so important to your writing career. No one wants to read a story littered with improper word usage, poor punctuation, or garbled sentence structure. Take a look at this list, see if you've got any of these "confusables" in your manuscript. Interested in working with an editor who'll give you the attention your work deserves at a reasonable price? Contact me at ginaardito@gmail.com for more details!
1. Lightning. Lightening is the result of successful dieting. That flash in the sky is lightning.
2. Withdrawal. Would you believe I actually saw withdrawl on a news program?! Eek!
3. Affect/Effect. Affect is the act; Effect is the end result. "Global warming affects our planet, having a negative effect on living things."
4. Farther/Further. Use farther for measures of distance; further for everything else.
5. A lot. Two words!
6. All right. Again, two words!
7. It's/Its. Do you use an apostrophe for "hers" or "his"? So, why use one in the possessive "its"? You don't. It's is the contraction of "it is."
8. Lead/Led. The first one is a metal or used to describe someone at head of the line in the present tense: The teacher will lead the class out of the school in a single file line. The second is how the fireman got the victim through a dark house yesterday. He led me into the dining room where a candlelit dinner waited.
9. Irregardless. Aaaaaaarrrrrrgggghhhh! There is no such word. The word is simply regardless.
10. Stationary/Stationery. If you're standing still, you're stationary. You write on stationery.
11. Nauseous/Nauseated. When you're nauseous, you're making someone else sick. When you're sick, you're nauseated.
12. Imply/Infer. To imply is to suggest--think of the old retort, "I resent the implication..." To infer is to draw a conclusion.
13. Ensure/Insure. Insure has to do with insurance contracts. Use ensure unless your hero works for MetLife.
14. Breath is what you inhale; the act is to breathe.
15. Proceed/Precede. “Pre-” means before. So if something precedes you, it came before. If it proceeds you, it came after.
16. There/They’re/Their and Your/You’re. There is directional, they’re is the shortened version of they are, and their is the possessive.
Your is the possessive. You’re is the shortened version of you are.
Your is the possessive. You’re is the shortened version of you are.
17. Bare/Bear. Bare is naked, stripped. Bear is an animal or, as a verb, to withstand something. “I couldn’t bear to go bare!”
18. Bore/Bored. She bore the brunt of his anger (past tense of bear). His gaze bored into her soul (past tense of bore, as in drill).
19. Peak/Peek/Pique. Peak is like a mountain top. You play peek-a-boo with a child or peek at your Christmas gift a few days early. And your heroine can either pique the hero’s curiosity or leave in a fit of pique.
20. Vice/Vise. A vice is a bad habit. A vise is a tool used to pinch two ends together.
21. Lay/Lie/Laid/Lain. You can lay something down; hens lay eggs, or someone can lie on your sofa. But if it happened yesterday, you laid something down, the hens laid eggs, or someone had lain on your sofa. Still confused? Use “recline” or some synonym thereof. It’s easier.
22. Slander/Libel. Slander is spoken; libel is written.
23. Faze/Phase. For faze, think daze. Nothing fazes him. A phase is a passage of time.
24. Rain/Rein/Reign. Rain falls from the sky. You rein in your temper (think horses’ reins) and a king reigns over his kingdom.
25. Accept/Except. Accept an apology or an invitation. Invite everyone except your cousin, Melvin.
26. Soul/Sole. A soul is that intangible part of your mortality we hope lives on. Sole is a fish, part of a shoe, or as an adjective, a synonym for single, lone, only (i.e.: sole survivor.)
27. Everyday/Every day. Used as one word, everyday means routine, run-of-the-mill. Throw in “single” to differentiate. His everyday wardrobe consisted of gray slacks, white shirt, and blue tie. He wore the same outfit every (single) day.
28. Pore/Pour. You pore over your manuscript looking for errors. If you’re lucky, your spouse pours you a glass of wine while you’re working.
29. Anymore/Any More. One word if you’re dealing with a time issue; two words if you’re talking about quantity. You don’t smoke anymore since you were diagnosed with lung cancer. OR You don’t smoke any more than you did before you were diagnosed with lung cancer.
30. Who/Whom. Not sure when to use which? Change the sentence slightly. If you can replace the problem word with “she” or “he,” use “who.” She let the dogs out. Who let the dogs out? If you would replace the problem word with “her” or “him,” use “whom.” The dogs belong to him. The dogs belong to whom?
I could go on and on, but what these 30 words should show you is that you cannot rely on SpellCheck! If you’re not 100% sure of the meaning or correct spelling for a specific word, take a few minutes to look it up. Dictionary.com should be bookmarked on every writer’s desktop.
A few phrases often misconstrued:
1. Bated breath, not baited.
2. Toe the line, not tow.
3. Couldn’t care less. If you could care less, you would.
4. “I literally died.” Gee, I hope not. I think you figuratively died.
5. For all intents and purposes, not intensive purposes.
6. Do a 180. A 360 is a full circle that takes you back where you started.
7. One and the same, not one in the same.
8. Whet your appetite, don’t wet it.
9. You’ve got another think coming, not thing.
10. Statute of limitations. Statues need not apply.
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