OVER-WRITING
STATUS: Fighting the urge to go back to Bill. Darn his charismatic, alluring powers!
FAVE LINKEY-POO RIGHT THIS SECOND: Alex posted this one on her Facebook page and I’m stealing it from her. It’s a 1980s dance fight, which, unlike “Beat It,” doesn’t quite achieve that same level of menace vis a vis song. But then again, “Beat It” was never this awesomely awful.
In the latest draft of my new novel, I have been guilty of a lot of over-writing. Like, why say it in one sentence when you can say it in three pages? I am working on editing and tightening, and I am blessed with people around me who are helping me spot the blah-blah-blahing.
Looking for areas to trim is also a good reminder of a lesson Stephen King gave in his book On Writing. Which, if you’re a writer and you haven’t read this book, pick it up. The memoir portion of the book is pretty gritty, and King doesn’t hesitate to talk about things like how tough times were before he sold Carrie, for example. But the writing lessons are even better. My favorite was where King goes on a rant about adverbs, those pesky “ly” words — like quickly, quietly, softly, fully. King thought they were pretty much crap and writers didn’t need them.
For example: “I’ve always loved you,” Bill said softly.
King would argue here that you don’t need the softly. That if you set the scene well, the softly is a “dur.” And for a sentence like “Bill ran quickly,” King might say there are better ways to craft it. Like, “Bill pounded down the sidewalk until the trees began to blur.”
I am pulling a lot of this from memory because my neighbor has my copy of On Writing and hasn’t given it back. She also has the first season of 24 and a galley of Keeping the House. So if I’m not spot-on with the examples, you can post a comment to that end. But I think I’ve got the gist of it down — and it’ll have to do until I walk across the street and get my shizzle back.