Feb 25 2008
Die, figurative language, die!
When I read items such as the simile stomp at agent Nathan Bransford’s blog, I have to marvel at the thought processes of other readers (because it’s really not a writer issue but a matter of perception by the reader, even if that reader happens to be a writer).
Apparently, some readers, upon coming across the phrase “neck like a giraffe,” have to stop reading to ponder the meaning of that phrase. Are, in fact, wrenched from the setting of the story and deposited in the African savannah or perhaps the San Diego Zoo’s giraffe exhibit to ponder the meaning. Do, in fact, curl their collective lip at the literal impossibility of a human being with a six-foot long neck with arterial valves to prevent fainting upon bending over.
Really?
When I see “neck like a giraffe,” I think “longer-than-average neck” and carry on with the story. No pause necessary.
Adverbs, of course, were thrown into the fray in the comments section, as they are so much more fun to bludgeon. One example was “walked furtively.” Apparently this is so ambiguous, another reader has to put down the book and Google the word in an attempt to discern the author’s meaning.
Amazing, as it gives me a perfectly clear picture of the walker’s behavior, right down to posture. Furthermore, had the author taken a paragraph to convey the exact image that one word evokes for me, I would have skipped it.
Obviously, I am a failure as a reader, as I do not focus on a single word or phrase to the extent that it has the power to distract me from the remaining 300 pages of words.
How long must it take to read an entire book with all that pondering of meaning for every sentence? No wonder that other reader wants no-frills prose. My TBR shelf would represent a lifetime of labor.
I anticipate having some wiggle room between books no later than June.
Edited to add: I administered a reading test to a six-year-old this morning, and had he stopped to ponder every few words, he would have lost points for comprehension and fluency. This sort of experience with scoring of reading ability may have something to do with my failure to understand the stop-and-ponder approach in adults.
9/30
11/4
11/4
11/25
February 25th, 2008 at 8:47 am
It’s obvious to me after glancing at the posts on his front page and a few of the comments that the Bransford Bunch are not Your People, so I marvel that you would visit more than once. Doesn’t it put you in a pissy mood on a regular basis?
February 25th, 2008 at 9:50 am
Well, he used to be funny once in a while.
Beyond that, I MARVEL that an agent dispenses writing advice from esteemed authors the vast majority of the reading public has never heard of, and a group of authors will nod and agree and “of course” while sneering at those talentless hacks on the bestseller lists with their six-figure advances and their movie deals and their action figures and graphic novels and so forth.
If Esteemed Author I Never Heard Of and Bestselling Hack With A Pile O’Money were side by side handing out writing tips, I know which side of the auditorium I’d be sitting on.
Seriously, take his advice and Google the National Book Award. Look at the winners and finalists, just for the 2000s. How many have you heard of? Not even read, just heard of? Since 2000, I recognized the names of two of the fiction authors, neither of them winners. Since 2000, I’d actually read two of the nonfiction entries and heard of four young people’s fiction books or authors. Heard of 8 out of 140. That’s it. I read anywhere between 100 and 300 books a year, and none of them have been by those people.
Now look at the last NYT bestseller list. In the top five for hardcover fiction, we have Grisham, King, Patterson, and Parker. I don’t even have to see first names to know who those guys are. In the top five MM paperbacks, we have Danielle Steel and Sherrilyn Kenyon, *gasp* romance authors. I recognized names on the bestseller lists in children’s, nonfiction, and even advice books. Those are the books READERS are BUYING and READING. I would think that would be the goal of most writers: to be READ.
I don’t want to write a piece of literary technical perfection that nobody reads and spend the rest of my life wallowing in bitterness because the morons who buy books don’t appreciate my genius. I want to write a book that gets into as many hands as possible and entertains hordes of people and has them holding out their hands for the next one.
I’ve never seen the honor in being a starving artist. Success in any occupation, by my definition, is NOT starving.
And yes, you’re right, it does put me in a pissy mood, so I took it off my list of things to browse. Sure, be all reasonable and stuff…
February 25th, 2008 at 10:09 am
Why get upset about some halfhearted writing advice from an agent who isn’t even funny anymore, and even before was only funny once in a while?
February 25th, 2008 at 10:26 am
I’m not upset by you or your advice to your readers, Mr. Bransford, merely perplexed, as always, by the prevalence of literary snobbery when, from my humble perspective, “literary” could benefit from learning a thing or two from its bastard brother “commercial.”
February 25th, 2008 at 11:28 am
I mean, I’ve posted before about my admiration and love of genre fiction and how great writing is hiding in plain site, among the bestsellers. Not to mention the fact that one of the authors May studied under is a perennial NY Times Bestseller — she isn’t (at least I hope) an author “no one has heard of.”
There are plenty of reasons to disagree with the post and/or to call me out personally, but snobbery isn’t one of them.
February 29th, 2008 at 10:05 am
I think the problem with the discussion lies in absolutes. Figurative language is suspect because some folks handle it badly, and adverbs are RIGHT OUT, don’t even think about going there. And then, of course, you’ve got those who’ve initiated a fatwa on any form of the verb “to be.”
That’s sure to turn around the current crisis in publishing, because what readers are REALLY looking for are books written to a set of arbitrary rules for the use of language. It has nothing to do with the dearth of good storytelling or the way editors are being held hostage by marketing departments - no, indeed. Let’s kill off the adverb. THAT’s what’ll make the difference.