[PSA: REMEMBER TO VOTE ON TUESDAY.]
by Alison Janssen
CHAPTER ONE
Day breaks outside your shuttered window as you type the two words you've most longed to use into your 500-page Word document:
THE END
This is it!, you think. I've finally done it! My sleepless nights can come to an end, and this novel will make me rich and famous beyond the wildest dreams I would have had if I'd been sleeping at night instead of writing! I'll just print this first draft out, pop it in a box, and send it off to be published by Random House or whoever!
But then you pause, thinking, Perhaps I should read it through once before I send it, just to make sure it's what I intended...
If you hit Print and grab the nearest box addressed to BIG PUBLISHING, go to CHAPTER FIVE
If you hit Print and take out a red pen to get started on edits, go to CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER TWO
Gosh, you think as you turn the pages of your manuscript. (Yes, you think in G-rated terms today, Barbara.) Gosh, I'm proud of myself for writing this book but I sure do use a lot of speech tags. And adverbs. Maybe I should cut some? They are, after all, mainly to show off how big my vocabulary is, and they seem to be slowing down the action, and fostering an authorial attitude of telling, rather than showing.
If you decide to cut adverbs and speech tags, go to CHAPTER THREE
If you decide to leave them in and send the manuscript out to agents as is, got to CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER THREE
Setting down your now-half-spent red pen, you think, Well, that was hard, but not nearly as bad as I feared. And I'm sure this manuscript is ready now to top all bestseller lists from tomorrow until eternity!
Your telephone rings, and it's your mother asking how "that writing you do" is going. Triumphant, you let her know the book is finished, and you're about to send it to tempt agents!
"That's wonderful, dear, but can I read it first?" she asks.
Well, we already have plans to meet for lunch, you think. May as well bring this and let her read it -- I'm sure she'll love it.
After a delicious lunch with your mom, you hand her the adverb-and-speech-tag-edited pages and watch her read. When she nears the end, she proclaims you a genius and your work the best thing she's ever read.
If you take your mother's praise and determine your manuscript is ready to go out, go to CHAPTER SEVEN
If you want to get a non-familial opinion of your work and opt to head to a writing group, go to CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FOUR
Fellow writers in your writing group offer helpful, sound advice, as well as some crazy suggestions. (Really?, you think, I should add a subplot involving a unicorn, a whale, and a sad robot?)
You take their notes home and over several months work through them, revising your manuscript again and again. And again.
New themes emerge within your work, and stronger, more interesting choices present themselves for your characters.
With each successive revision, you go back to trusted readers for feedback and input. You don't take every suggestion, but you think through each comment and look hard at the work you've done.
Then, early one morning, day breaks outside your shuttered window. You look again at the words you typed months ago:
THE END
And you think, This time ... I think it really is ready.
If you decide to email blast every agent you've heard of with the full mansuscript embedded in the body of an email, go to CHAPTER EIGHT
If you start working on a query letter for agents, go to CHAPTER TEN
If you get a case of the nerves, stick the manuscript in a drawer, and think, There's probably more to do, I should just wait a little longer and work on my word choices in that third scene, go to CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER FIVE
The editorial assistant sorts your carefully boxed, unsolicited manuscript into the trash can. Try again!
CHAPTER SIX
At some point, the manuscript has to be finished, or it will never be a book. Don't lose confidence after months of hard work ... Try again!
CHAPTER SEVEN
A kind editorial assistant reads your mauscript through to page ten, thinking it might really "get started" in the next chapter. But then she realizes she has fifteen more manuscripts to get through before morning, and sends a thanks-but-no-thanks rejection email. Try again!
CHAPTER EIGHT
Foiled by Spamfilters! Consult your Writer's Digest or The Worldwide Internet to brush up on your submission guidlines, curate a list of agents who represent your type of novel, and Try again!
CHAPTER NINE
The half-drunk agent hastily downs another chilly shot of vodka and roars angrily, "ASSISTANT! Get out my form rejection letter -- the nasty one -- and get me a pen. I've got some dreams to crush!"
Your manuscript pages float languidly into the trash can. Try again!
CHAPTER TEN
CONGRATULATIONS! You've written a good book! Triumphant music accompanies you as you send out queries.
This is wonderful! Though I would like to know if the unicorn, whale, and sad robot made the cut--wouldn't the unicorn save it from being too Douglas Adams-y?
Please write a sequel!
Posted by: Sarah W | October 28, 2010 at 05:44 PM
Define "speech tags."
Posted by: Jeff Cohen | October 28, 2010 at 05:55 PM
Oh, Jeff, these things:
He said
She asked
It gurgled
They chortled
He breathed importantly
I'm of the mind that "asked" and "said" are 97% of what you need, in terms of speech tags. A few "shouted"s, etc, for good measure, but a new, different word for each bit of speech drives me batty.
Posted by: Alison Janssen | October 28, 2010 at 06:27 PM
Ha! It's clear I was raised reading Douglas Adams, I guess.
And also playing with My Little Ponies, of which my favorite was my little white unicorn. :)
Posted by: Alison Janssen | October 28, 2010 at 06:28 PM
See, I disagree. I hate the idea of being restricted to only certain words. If another is more descriptive of the point Im trying to make, Ill use it. Now, OVERUSE of such things is an annoyance and a sign of a writer who just graduated from the Thesaurus School of Creativity. I can name a very popular series (no hints) that I cant read because the author never met an adjective he didnt love. Nobody complains about that, but write snorted instead of said, and youre the Charles Manson of writing.
Posted by: Jeff Cohen | October 28, 2010 at 06:34 PM
Do you think maybe the realism backlash against purple prose has gone a bit too far?
I was told that when my character "rolled her eyes," the critiquer wanted to know if they went under the couch. It wasn't as if they darted across the room . . .
Speech tags bother me less than added adverbs . . . but I do feel that if someone hisses something, there should be a few S's in the dialogue. But maybe that's just me?
Posted by: Sarah W | October 28, 2010 at 08:50 PM
Me, too. And Piers Anthony, which is probably why I have a low pun threshold . . .
Posted by: Sarah W | October 28, 2010 at 08:51 PM
This one's a keeper. Well done.
Posted by: Ma Fea | October 29, 2010 at 08:15 AM
Oh, Jeff, I didn't mean to cast you (or anyone) as Charles Manson (besides Charles Manson).
I agree that some variance is speech tags is fine, but it's the tendency to overuse them -- or, more specifically, to use them in place of interesting dialogue. Speech tags are not an easy way around flat dialogue, and I've noticed that for many Thesaurus School of Creativity graduates, speech tags become a crutch. I don't want to be told someone snorted if I didn't already partially sense the snort from the speech itself.
In any case, with a majority of the submissions I see, adverbs and speech tags are what make me close the file -- but it's not just because they're there, it's because of how they're used, that's why I'm picking on them in this post.
Posted by: Alison Janssen | October 29, 2010 at 10:10 AM
Thats entirely fair, Alison. I didnt think you were being that strict. I just think of Robert B. Parkers later novels (and I liked Parker a lot), in which the book would be halved by the deletion of the word said. Try listening to one of those on audio sometime--youll want to tear your hair out.
Posted by: Jeff Cohen | October 29, 2010 at 10:13 AM
Sarah, for me, some purple prose is just fine, I certainly don't mind someone rolling her eyes. I think I invented that move, as a preteen, anyway. :)
It's the repetition of said prose that starts to get to me, when it's the fallback go-to visual action the author uses at least once per chapter.
And this goes for non-purple prose, too. Every author has a word or phrase popping up repeatedly throughout a ms. Once, it was a character "tipping his head on side". Another time it was the word "puffed," and another, the word "knot/knotted/knots".
I find that if I encourage the author to drink every time s/he comes across a repeated phrase, it helps them notice the overuse AND makes for a fun night!
Posted by: Alison Janssen | October 29, 2010 at 10:19 AM
Oh, yes---if I don't watch them like a hawk, my characters shrug and twitch and smile and lift endless cups of coffee (which might explain the twitching).
I love the idea of the 'drinking review' . . . even if I stuck to soft drnks, I expect I'd end up reading most of my MS in the bathroom . . .
Posted by: Sarah W | October 29, 2010 at 12:24 PM