Special Edition: How to Write a Worst Seller!

In honor of NaNoWriMo, I thought I'd share what I've learned as a reader and especially as an editor.

So many people are intent on telling you (or selling you) advice on how to write the next best seller. To make millions of dollars. To make millions of friends. To make millions bow to your greatness.

I may not know how to get you there, but here are my top ten bits of advice that, if followed, will practically ensure failure. In other words,

HOW TO WRITE A WORST SELLER IN TEN EASY STEPS

1. Warm up by telling all the writers you know that it's not that hard, and that you can do it better. In your sleep. By typing with only one hand. This is as good a preparatory exercise as stretching.
2. Set yourself a publishing date of two months from the day you sit down to start. I mean, really, it's just like telling a story, except you're writing it down. It can't take more than a week or so to get it all on paper.
3. Use as much slang as possible. You gotta be real, right? That's just the way people talk, and people who read your book either have to understand or they don't deserve to read it.
4. There's no such thing as too many exclamation marks! No! Such! Thing! It's the easiest way to convey excitement! No! It's the ONLY way to convey excitement!
5. You may have to explain every plot point more than once. Your readers have no idea what's going on unless you tell them, and what if they forget?
6. As each character enters the scene, list out their stats so your readers can immediately picture them. It would be terrible if they had the wrong mental picture of your people.
7. All your world-building should be done in the first chapter. Or better yet, your prologue. That way, you don't have to interrupt the story flow later.
8. Only have your friends read it before publishing, because "they'll be honest with me." And what do professional beta readers know that my friends don't know? Are you saying my friends are dumb?
9. Editors are for losers! Real writers write well enough that they don't need those bossypants Cat Ladies telling them librarian rules.
10. There's no reason why you can't make your own cover. MS Paint can do just as well as anyone who puts a picture and a few words together. Or what about that picture of the seven-legged horse your daughter drew? That's adorable. Everyone will agree, and if they don't, they're coldhearted, evil human beings and you don't want them reading your book anyway.

Bonus points are added if you hurry up and publish before anyone can talk you out of it. Because you've just GOT to get that book out to the world! 

Besides, you can always make changes after your reviewers tell you what's needed.

HAPPY WRITING!

Worst Writing Advice: Semicolons—Are They Even Legal?

I had planned on talking about semicolons in the same post as contractions, but when I started typing, I realized I had too much material for one post, and each piece of bad advice deserved its own spotlight, such as it is.

So without further ado, I bring you [insert your own musical soundtrack of dread here]

SEMICOLONS

The semicolon is a piece of punctuation that brings out strong emotions in people. I have never met anyone who feels ambivalent about them—either they love semicolons or they hate them with every fiber of their being.

Of those who hate the semicolon, the numbers seem to fall into two camps: the I-Don't-Know-How-to-Use-Them-Properly people and the Semicolons-Are-Forbidden people.

I get that some people may not know how to use them. Punctuation can be a tricky thing at times, and a punctuation mark that isn't really a full stop but isn't really a comma can get mighty confusing. Not knowing is perfectly fine, and provides job security to editors all over the globe. Semicolonially inept (semicolonically? nope) writers give me one more way to show how I can help to polish their work. And if I had to make up a statistic on the spot, I'd say that easily 70% of the writers out there are challenged by the seemingly innocuous mark. So it's really no big deal. Just ask your editor to fix it and you're golden.

But the other group of writers concern me because they are victims of the Worst Writing Advice. Every so often, in writer/editor groups, I see a post that goes something like this: "I read somewhere that you shouldn't use semicolons in fiction. What should I do with a sentence like this?"

So . . . once again, I'm here to tell you that a "rule" is not actually a rule. There is nothing anywhere that prohibits the use of semicolons. Ever. Not in nonfiction, not in fiction, not on a boat, not with a goat, not in the rain, not on a train. The most strenuous of the WWA-givers can only come up with such weak reasoning as, "I feel it's better," or "Author McFamous doesn't use them," or my personal favorite, "Semicolons make people have to stop and think." Commenters on a particularly fired-up thread tried to equate use of semicolons with not putting readers first.

To that, I say, WHAT? Seriously, whatwhatwhat? Let's think about this. If a reader doesn't really know what a semicolon does or how to use it properly, they're not going to be tripped up by seeing it in the narrative. That reader will see all commas, semicolons, periods, and ellipses as roughly the same thing: a pause of sorts. They don't give a rip about independent clauses, dependent clauses, missing text, list format, or speech interruption. They just keep reading and the whole thing is a non-incident. They're there to read, not to analyze the latest best-seller for its sentence structure.

Chalk this up to yet another guideline that has gotten misconstrued along the way. All punctuation serves a purpose. Sometimes the differences are more obvious (question mark vs. exclamation mark) and some provide a subtle nuance that serves a particular end. Bottom line: if you don't like semicolons, don't use them. No one is forcing you. But don't tell others they aren't allowed to, just because you don't like seeing them. 

A few very rough guidelines mention that semicolons are used less often in dialogue than they are in the narrative when writing fiction. That makes sense because of the way we talk and think, but again, it's not a hard & fast rule. Other editors have mentioned that semicolons are rarely used in marketing copy. Again, this makes sense because marketing is all about the shorter sentences and punchy impact. Shorter sentences don't lend themselves to a need for semicolons.

Other than that, I can't think of many situations where I'd recommend removing one that's used properly. I'll leave you with a quote that will hopefully inspire you to sprinkle semicolons throughout your manuscript without fear:

"We use semicolons for the same reason we replace cement floors with marble: cement floors are functional but are not as elegant, not as aesthetically pleasing as marble. [ . . . ] Business memos do not need semicolons. Creative writers do." —Noah Lukeman, The Art of Punctuation

I'm a Guest Blogger at IWSG Today!

Hey, everyone!

Today marks a first for me: I have been asked to write a guest post for today's Insecure Writer's Support Group, so you can find me over at their site.

I've been part of the IWSG for a few years now and have lurked, commented, and learned as the authors, designers, and publishers who make up the membership have shared their collective knowledge.

To be honest, I'm not entirely sure why they asked me to guest—maybe they thought I was someone else, or typed the wrong email addy, or they were just plain desperate, but hey, I'll take it. I love to do things like this, and the IWSG is a group of people I admire for their support of bloggers and writers all over the world. They promote each other, cheer for each other, and offer solid advice when writer's block plops itself firmly down on your keyboard.

So head on over to their site today and say hello! My post will be no surprise to those of you who have been following my Worst Writing Advice series—it sort of sums up rules that aren't rules and why we don't always have to follow them.

Here's THE LINK so you have no excuse to go back to your regularly scheduled lives without at least saying, "Great post. Thanks for sharing."

Just kidding. I'll hunt you down and punch you if you leave a lame, generic comment like that. We all know how that works.

Worst Writing Advice: Contractions Aren't Allowed

When I started writing about bad writing advice, I knew there was a lot floating around out there. I'd see it from time to time on forums through Goodreads, Facebook, and other places where writers gather to share encouragement and ideas. And yet, when I'd sit down to write my posts, all the oooh, this bugs me! moments would abandon me, making me wonder why I thought it was a good idea to do this series in the first place.

Not so this week. This post is all about contractions.

They seem to come up a lot when talking with fiction writers. For some reason I've never been able to track, many writers are under the impression that one should never use contractions when penning fiction.

I can't think of much that makes dialogue sound more stilted than someone who doesn't use contractions, unless it's Data from Star Trek: The Next Generation, in which case it sounds perfectly normal. Granted, there might be a good reason for it (like Data's programming limitations). A book I edited years ago featured a mage who never used contractions, and that trait set off his dialogue nicely, making his voice easy to identify. Or perhaps a character who doesn't use contractions is someone who is royalty, or more formal in their speech because of a class distinction. That's fine. Perfectly fine. More than fine.

What isn't fine is when someone tries to tell you that NO ONE can use contractions when writing. Scientific writing has a tradition of not using contractions, but this blog post by Stephen Heard discusses why even that is an irritation for him personally. He states that the use of contractions in scientific text is seen as "unprofessional or unscientific" but then points out that the reader's perception of that is circular in its logic: "we avoid contractions in scientific writing because they sound informal, but they sound informal to us only because we're used to avoiding them in scientific writing!"

Somehow, newer writers have taken the traditions of scientific writing and morphed them into some sort of unbreakable curse rule for all writing, fiction included. But let's face it, not only is this not a rule, it's ridiculous to attempt.

First of all, most people use contractions when they speak. (See my Editor's Notes post about dialogue sounding real.) And if a good work of fiction is supposed to reach people by feeling "real," what better way to give authenticity than by mimicking real-life speech patterns?

On The Write Practice, Joe Bunting discusses the fact that English teachers tell their students that contractions should never be used in writing, but he personally suggests it "only so you don't ruin your grade." His practical advice: ". . . if you're writing anything remotely creative, and especially if you're writing dialogue, you need to be using contractions. Real people use them and so should you."

Heck, even The Chicago Manual of Style says, "Most types of writing benefit from the use of contractions. If used thoughtfully, contractions in prose sound natural and relaxed and make reading more enjoyable." (5.105) If CMOS says it, you know I'm all in.

Contractions are not a modern gimmick. They've been around for centuries. Even Beowulf had contractions in it.

The important thing to remember is that the "no contractions" thing is NOT a rule. Fight anyone who tries to tell you it is. Sound natural. Sound relaxed. Make the reading more enjoyable, and live to write creatively!

Worst Writing Advice: Never, Ever End a Sentence With a Preposition

Have you ever worked somewhere that people are unwilling to change procedures because "that's the way we've always done it"? The way things have "always" been done may have worked well for a long time, but cultural or environmental factors changed and suddenly the "always" way is no longer the best or most effective way.

Language is no different. It's forever changing, and for every person who embraces the latest version of cray, gucci, fam, or finna, there are three or more who insist that groovy and hep cat will never go out of style. But let's face it: daddy-O from the 1950s does NOT mean the same thing as Daddy in 2018. Confusing the two just might get you a lot of strange looks.

One of the non-rules that is vehemently pushed by some is "never end your sentence with a preposition." This has led to writers making themselves insane, trying to restructure sentences to avoid the things, often causing more confusion by making the sentence "proper." Where on earth did this crazy idea come from, anyway?

You can blame 17th-centry poet John Dryden, England's first official poet laureate. His personal preference of believing sentence-ending prepositions to be "not elegant"—most likely based on his love of classics and all things Latin—somehow became an Unbreakable Rule for grammar teachers everywhere. (To learn more about this literary genius who was not a very well-liked individual, this article from Atlas Obscura is an enjoyable diversion.)

Or you can blame Joshua Poole, who, according to Merriam-Webster, was an "obscure grammarian" who was "concerned with prepositions being placed 'in their naturall [sic] order,'" though he doesn't specifically mention the end of a sentence as bad placement. Poole was spouting his nonsense decades before Dryden, but Dryden had the celebrity to popularize it. Webster's short article about terminal prepositions is actually kind of snarky and fun. I like it. You can read it here if you'd like.

Here's the most important part of this whole deal, and it's truly what causes the most mystery: for about a century now—100 years!—grammar and usage guides have been telling writers that IT IS OKAY to end sentences with prepositions, and writers are still telling other writers that it's not okay. And people are believing the wrong thing.

I have found that some of the most persistent rule-pushers are those who have never actually looked up the putative rules to see whether they're valid or not, why they are or aren't, and whether the language has changed (and therefore changed their valid-or-not status). They believe and enforce things they've heard but never checked into.

I'll be honest: before I became a copyeditor, I was unaware of a good number of rules that needed to be in place, even though my grasp of grammar, spelling, and general usage was excellent. After copyediting dozens of novels over the past five-plus years and getting to know groups of editors from every walk of life, I've come to realize a few things:

1. I must always keep learning so I can deliver my best work to those who trust me with theirs.
2. The language is constantly changing, and it pays to keep up with the times.
3. When in doubt, "best practices" is a good default—some rules are more liquid than others because clarity and comprehension are the ultimate goal.
4. It's not about what we know, or think we know. It's about knowing how to use what we know. The difference between knowledge and wisdom, you might say.

I hope you're enjoying this series and perhaps learning something new. Maybe I'm simply confirming things you've already known, and it makes you feel better to have something to point to when you say I told you so!

Let me know if you have any bad writing advice peeves, or have been the recipient of some of these. I'd love to hear your stories!

Worst Writing Advice: Get Rid of ALL the Adverbs!

If you've ever gotten a group of writers or editors together, you are probably aware that there are as many opinions as there are people. Sometimes the number of opinions actually outnumbers the people present, which should defy all logic but somehow doesn't.

In the editor groups I'm part of, it's generally agreed upon that there are rules that shouldn't be broken. It's also agreed upon that there is something called "best practice" that is subject to circumstance. The thing about best practice is that it can vary from editor to editor, depending on a number of factors. The important part about best practice is that it has to make sense.

Take adverbs, for example. Please. Take them all. Take them far away. In fact, anything that ends in -ly should be banished from the language entirely.

Is that what you've been told? Stephen King even says in On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft, "I believe the road to hell is paved with adverbs, and I will shout it from the rooftops."

I tend to agree with Mr. King, but not for the reasons you may think. I've done posts about adverbs on this blog, including "What's So Bad About Adverbs?" in a previous Editor's Notes, so some of you are already aware of my views on this.

Here's the thing: there are many convincing reasons why you should get rid of as many adverbs as you can, and many convincing reasons why they are not, in fact, from the devil himself. The most important thing to remember is that this falls under the "advice" column and not the "nonnegotiable rules" column. So what is the best practice for adverbs?

The advice, when followed sensibly, reminds writers to get rid of the types of adverbs that create redundancy.

He shouted loudly across the field. She ran quickly to the door. He pounded forcefully on the table.

All these adverbs are redundant. Shouting is loud. Running is fast. Pounding shows force. "Quickly" might be used if the sentence read "she made her way quickly to the door" instead, but in this case, the verb used gives a different feel to the movement.

The other reason writers are so often advised to get rid of their adverbs is because they're using them to write in a lazy fashion. It's easier to say "Oh, no!" she cried despairingly than it is to describe what she looked like in her moment of despair. What about "Oh, no!" She choked out the words as her gaze darted back and forth from one family member to another, looking for a different answer than the one she'd been given.

Which one gives a visual to the reader? The first tells us how the character reacted. The second shows us. This is where the "show, don't tell" advice comes from, and is what prompts so many writers to panic if they find a sentence that tells.

DO NOT PANIC. Listen to me here, because this is important. YOU ARE ALLOWED TO TELL. You are even allowed to tell with an -ly adverb if you so choose. Sometimes you want to say "she walked quietly to the door" because she didn't creep, or tiptoe, or sneak. She simply walked quietly and that's that.

The important thing to keep in mind is that advice like "remove adverbs" becomes advice because in a lot of situations, it's sensible, removes redundancy, and helps to keep the writing interesting. But it's not a rule, and there is no need to make yourself crazy with a search & seizure of anything that ends in -ly. Adverbs are a legit part of speech that can be used to great effect in the right place at the right time.

Just like good food, fine chocolate, or necessary medications, a little is good, but that doesn't mean that a lot is necessarily better.