Karinwritesdangerously

« All the fun’s in how you say a thing. »
Robert Frost

Sometimes, we’re so busy getting our story out of our head and down on paper, or so obsessed with working out plot glitches, that we become inattentive on the wordsmithing front. When this happens, we can easily find ourselves relying on clichés, using the same words and phrases too often, or settling for flabby constructions. Or, at the other extreme, we can end up over-reaching: coming up with clever synonyms that muddy our meaning instead of clarifying it. 

Here are a few manuscript snafus worth striving to avoid in a first draft. If they sneak in, work hard to ferret them out in later ones:

Qualifiers:

Pesky qualifiers like “little” as in “he was a little disappointed” or “quite” as in “she wasn’t quite sure,” drain the energy from a sentence. Instead of hedging your bets with a qualifier, simply say what you want to say or find a more colorful way to make your point. 

Clichés:

When editors come across a cliché, they can easily view a writer as unimaginative or even lazy. When readers come across a cliché, they can feel disappointed or as if they’ve hit the same old pothole instead of being taken down a fresh, untraveled road. Any or all of these responses are far from the feelings we want to evoke. 

Cliché cutting, swift and ruthless, is your best defense. Read your work aloud and these worn-out phrases will jump out at you. Circle them and get out your scalpel: When you spot one, you have three options: 1) cut it out altogether; 2) replace it with a more pungent or specific phrase; or 3) refresh and transform it into something inventive by changing a key word or using it in a surprising way or unexpected context.

Fall-back words:

These are “crutch” words that we tend to use over and over without even realizing it. Often, they seem to crop up in drafts like mushrooms after a spring rain. Words like “just” or “even so,” or “though.” While these words have value, all too often, they don’t add impact, but diffuse it — and readers can easily find them annoying. Since they are hard to spot, the best way to catch crutch words and eliminate them is to have someone else review your draft. If there’s a word you know you’ve overused, you can also hit the “Find” function and slice and dice them to be sure they don’t overstay their welcome.

Consciously clever words:

Fueled by our eager desire to add spice and originality to our stories, we can easily fall into another trap: substituting cleverness for clarity. Using an awkward synonym or simile is one form of this. Coming up with exciting replacements for the word “said” in dialogue like “exclaimed,” or “observed,” is another. Often these words, which add little to a story, jump out at readers, forcing them to pause when they should simply glide over them.

Pruning helps our prose sparkle and dance, so let’s snip away as we write on.

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« Children, like animals, use all their senses to discover the world.
Then artists come along and discover it the same way all over again. »
Eudora Welty

Exciting new research suggests that there’s a lot going on in our brains when we view visual art. One study analyzed brains scans of people looking at paintings. The results? Predictably, viewing art triggered brain activity related to visual understanding and recognizing objects. But viewing artwork also sparked activity associated with inner thoughts, emotion, and learning.

Other research indicates that viewing art can be transformative: It can change the way we view the world. For instance, after a museum visit, students display stronger critical thinking skills, and there’s growing evidence that exposure to art can help older adults remain mentally alert and resilient. 

And here’s a finding for us as writers: Visiting a museum has the same positive power to restore and refresh as taking a break and going outdoors. According to research, taking a stroll through a museum can relieve mental fatigue and restore the ability to focus. 

For most of us, going to a museum is what’s called a “novelty-seeking venture” — it takes us out of our ordinary rounds and signals to our brain that we’re open to learning. Not only does this have a powerful impact on our brains, it’s also connected to a personality trait most associated with creative achievement: openness to new experiences.

In The Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron advises making a weekly “Artist’s Date” with ourselves, in which we experience something new — art, a film, an exotic food. What a great way to refill our creative wells and discover fresh new ideas! It’s not just refreshing, it’s fun—a form of play that enriches and enlivens me. What better way to prime ourselves to write dangerously? Something to ponder and apply as we all write on!

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Picture-Books in Winter
Robert Louis Stevenson

Summer fading, winter comes —
Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs,
Winter robins, winter rooks,
And the picture story-books.

Water now is turned to stone
Nurse and I can walk upon;
Still we find the flowing brooks
In the picture story-books.

All the pretty things put by,
Wait upon the children’s eye,
Sheep and shepherds, trees and crooks,
In the picture story books.

We see how all things are
Seas and cities, near and far,
And the flying fairies’ looks,
In the picture story-books.

How am I to sing your praise,
Happy chimney-corner days,
Sitting safe in nursery nooks,
Reading picture story-books.

“Success is a few simple disciplines, practiced every day; while failure is simply a few errors in judgment, repeated every day.” Jim Rohn

Here’s an inspiring story: When Dave Brailsford became the General Manager and Performance Director for Team Sky, Britain’s professional cycling team) he was asked to win the most grueling sporting event in the world: The Tour de France. 

He came up with a simple plan, “the aggregation of marginal benefits,” which he described as “the 1 percent margin for improvement in everything you do.” He believed if his riders improved every area of their performance by just 1 percent, then those small changes would add up to major improvement and a winning edge. 

Brailsford started by fine-tuning some predictable aspects of his riders’ training: optimizing nutrition, tweaking their weekly training regimen, improving bike fit. Then he looked for 1 percent improvements in overlooked areas: pillows that offered the best sleep and the best massage gel. He searched for tiny improvements everywhere. Three years later, in 2012, British cyclist Bradley Wiggins won the Tour and the British Olympic cycling team won 70 percent of the gold medals.

Mmmm. How does this apply to our writing? So often we set overly ambitious goals for ourselves and put ourselves under pressure to achieve them. If we don’t get there, we feel defeated. Why not opt for the 1 percent approach? Instead of earth-shaking improvement, let’s go for small changes for the better. At first, they might not even be noticeable, but in the long run, they can really add up. Over time, these small better decisions can bridge the gap between where we are and where we want to be. 

What are some 1 percent improvements we can put into action? A few ideas:

We can extend our writing sessions by just 15 minutes a day for 30 days. This would add up to 7-1/2 hours in a month — a full extra day of writing. 

We can consistently put just a little more time into strengthening an area we’re weak in: dialogue, for example, by writing little snippets and scenarios.

We can improve our inner ear and rhythm by reading a poem aloud every day. 

Any ideas for making small improvements over time? I’d love to hear them! Write on!

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As we honor Abraham Lincoln’s birthday today, let’s remember that he endured a host of setbacks, personal and political. He knew what it felt like to fail and to fight another day. We all face obstacles. Whatever is happening for you right now, considering the following:

Lincoln “Failures” List

Lost job in 1832.
Defeated for state legislature in 1832.
Failed in business in 1833.
Elected to state legislature in 1834.
Sweetheart died in 1835.
Had nervous breakdown in 1836.
Defeated for Speaker in 1838.
Defeated for nomination for Congress in 1843.
Elected to Congress in 1846.
Lost renomination in 1848.
Rejected for land officer in 1849.
Defeated for U.S. Senate in 1854.
Defeated for nomination for Vice President in 1856.
Again defeated for U.S. Senate in 1858.
Elected President in 1860.

And now, words from a brilliant wordsmith to inspirit and inspire us:

Whatever you are, be a good one.

Always bear in mind that your own resolution to succeed is more important than any one thing.

As I would not be a slave, so I would not be a master. This expresses my idea of democracy.

I don’t think much of a man who is not wiser than he was yesterday.

If I were two-faced, would I be wearing this one?

Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.

Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.

Abe really knew how to turn a phrase, didn’t he? Let’s do the same! And now, inspired by his brilliance and resilience, let’s all write on!

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« The brain is more powerful than we think it is. We pay more attention than we think we do. When we’re not so obstructed with the tools of recording, we’ll actually pay attention more. » Verlyn Klinkenborg

Verlyn is a highly regarded essayist frequently compared to E.B. White, a teacher, and author of a guide called Several Short Sentences about Writing. 

One concept that Verlyn embraces wholeheartedly is that of creative attention — noticing the world around us and what seems important to us without feeling compelled to record it right away. He calls this an exercise in not writing, in “catching your sleeve on the thorn of the thing you notice, and paying attention as you free yourself.”

In Verlyn’s view, based on years of observing his own writing habits and those of students, all too often, we rush to commit words to paper prematurely, when our ideas are only half-formed. We don’t give them time to ripen and rob them of their full potential. As an alternative, he suggests “Imagining sentences instead of writing them.” 

I often do this myself. Sometimes, when I’m very relaxed — lying in bed, for instance — a sentence will float into my head and I’ll start playing with it, moving phrases around, substituting better words, listening to the rhythm of the new versions I come up with. Only after I feel totally satisfied, will I commit it to paper. Have you ever tried this? It’s a kind of mental gymnastics and it’s lots of fun. 

One of the goals of Several Short Sentences is to shake up some of the conventional wisdom about writing. As Verlyn observes, “I hear a lot of emphasis on correctness from my students. What is the correct way to write? And the fact is, writing is such a mystery. There is no way to write. There’s only the way you find to write.”

Well said, Verlyn! Bringing creative attention to the world as we find the way to write that works for us—great advice as we all write on!

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“There is one thing stronger than all the armies in the world; and that is an idea whose time has come.” Victor Hugo

Today, February 10, is Boris Pasternak’s birthday—he was born in 1890.

Abe Books sold an original, Russian language copy of Boris Pasternak’s Nobel Prize-winning novel, Doctor Zhivago, for $11,000. As part of the sale, the bookseller researched the tortured history of the book and found a story almost as tragic and star-crossed as the novel itself. Pasternak penned his novel in the early 20th century, but wasn’t published and made available to readers until 1957. 

Though it’s been called “the greatest literary event of postwar Russia,” Pasternak’s novel wasn’t published in his homeland until 1988, more than 30 years after its Western release. Censors feared its revolutionary impact and expelled Pasternak from the Soviet Writer’s Union. His novel was rescued from oblivion by Giangiacomo Feltrinelli, an Italian publisher who discovered Doctor Zhivago through a literary scout and after reading it, felt a deep responsibility to see it published.

It was originally planned for release in both Russia and Italy, but the Russian publication was blocked. Feltrinelli had the manuscript smuggled out of Russia and into Milan, where it was released in Italian in 1957. Less than a year later, more than 1,000 copies were secretly published in the United States in the original Russian. The novel went on to win the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1958; intense pressure from the Soviet government — including the threat of exile — forced Pasternak to refuse the prize. In 1965, it was made into a popular film which won five Academy Awards.

The US original edition of Doctor Zhivago was actually published by the CIA, which distributed copies in 1958 to Soviet citizens visiting the Brussels World’s Fair as part of a Cold War propaganda campaign.

What a fascinating story! And how amazing to think that the American government “recruited” the poet Pasternak to help fight the Cold War. Write on!

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Ah, there it is again: the ever-present, ever-critical inner editor. You know the feeling: You can be writing along on a creative roll, when suddenly, your inner editor is at it again, whispering in your ear

What’s that pesky little know-it-all saying? It’s never anything good. It’s always kvetching and nitpicking: THAT’S NOT CLEVER, IT’S CLICHÉD. THAT’S NOT FUNNY, IT’S LAME. THAT’S NOT LYRICAL, IT’S LIMP.

If there’s one thing we all know about our inner editor: Yours, mine, Shakespeare’s, Stephen King’s, and J.K. Rowling’s: IT’S NOT HELPING US, IT’S HOLDING US BACK! 

What to do, what to do? some time ago, I came across a Writer’s Digest article by Noelle Sterne, editor, writing coach, and author. In the article, she describes vanquishing her inner critic by typing one word: FIX. 

FIX reminds Noelle that what she’s written isn’t cast in stone—she’s writing a draft, a work in progress and it “gently confirms that the writing process is one of trial and error, coaxing and courting, boldness, patience, and courage.” I love that!

A few final words from Noelle about the fixative powers of using FIX : “So, next time you hear your own version of the frightful condemning inner editor’s voice, just greet it with a FIX. This little word enables you not only to keep going, meeting your word or minute count for the day. It also, astoundingly, sets your creativity free. And you’ll be thrilled to discover greater confidence in your mind, your abilities, and your work. Accept the process. You’ll see that you can FIX anything.”

Let’s NIX those inner editors, FIX those drafts of ours — and write on!

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The Lobster Quadrille
by Lewis Carroll

“Will you walk a little faster?” said a whiting to a snail.
“There’s a porpoise close behind us, and he’s treading on my tail.
See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!
They are waiting on the shingle – will you come and join the dance?
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance?

“You can really have no notion how delightful it will be
When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!”
But the snail replied “Too far, too far!” and gave a look askance –
Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance.

“What matters it how far we go?” his scaly friend replied.
“There is another shore, you know, upon the other side.
The further off from England the nearer is to France –
Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance?”

“Failure meant a stripping away of the inessential. I stopped pretending to myself that I was anything other than what I was, and began to direct all my energy to finishing the only work that mattered to me. Had I really succeeded at anything else, I might never have found the determination to succeed in the one area where I truly belonged. I was set free, because my greatest fear had been realized, and I was still alive, and I still had a daughter whom I adored, and I had an old typewriter, and a big idea. And so rock bottom became a solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.”
J.K. Rowling

It’s hard to think of J.K. Rowling as a failure with 400 million of her books in print and vast legions of adoring readers who even now visit her Pottermore site because they just can’t get enough of all things Harry. And yet, it’s clear that at one point in time — and probably for quite a while — she thought of herself as a failure and thought that other people viewed her that way as well. But here’s what matters: she kept on doing what mattered to her — she kept on writing. 

When J.K. Rowling hit rock bottom, she found herself there waiting, ready to write. She had no control over what people thought of her, no control over whether a publisher would want to buy what she wrote or whether readers would want to read it. But she did have control over how much effort she put into her work and whether or not she would choose to keep going or quit. And she chose to keep going. Instead of being concerned about whether other people to choose or reject her, she choose herself. She gave herself permission to create. And that gave her power.

All around us there are people choosing the people they’ll publish in their magazines or publishing houses, the people they’ll invite to their writing residencies, the people they’ll invite to their book clubs. When they pass us by, it can be tough to handle. We’ve worked hard, but for some reason, often unfathomable, we’re not one of the “chosen ones.” But here’s a great headline I read recently that I want to pass on for your reflection: “The ‘Chosen Ones’ Choose Themselves.” 

To me, this means that in order to become someone who’s work is valued in one form or another by the outside world — we first have to value that work ourselves. We have to choose to make it important in our life. We have to choose to make sacrifices so we can write. We have to choose to set aside time to plan and think and create. We have to choose to keep writing and give it our best even when we’re not chosen by the gatekeepers waiting outside our door. We have to choose to hit rock bottom and find ourselves there, just as J.K. Rowling did. So, forget about the choices other people are making about you — they’re not who counts: You are. You can become one of the chosen ones right now, this second. Choose yourself — and write on!

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