How to Be a Crap Writer (Part 3)

In my previous posts on the topic of being a crap writer, I’ve looked at identifying those among us who are not literary greats, as well as the kinds of silly writing mistakes many authors make. This time around, I’d like to share my thoughts on more subjects that irritate me, and spoil books that would otherwise be enjoyable reads.

As usual, I’m not going to point the finger, but instead will use examples of the types of things I’m talking about.

Asking and Replying

This is where an author has a section of dialogue where almost every sentence ends with the words asked or replied. If you need to clarify who is speaking, there’s nothing wrong with said – it doesn’t stand out or draw attention to itself. However, some authors seem to feel the need to do just that. In one book (by a well-known novelist) I came across huge sections of dialogue where asked and replied were tagged onto every sentence and repeated unremittingly, to the point where they not only distract from the text, but the author risks losing the attention of the reader by highlighting his or her poor standard of writing.

EG

‘What is it you want?’ I asked her.
‘I wanna know whose side you’re on,’ she replied.
‘Do you really mean that? I asked.
‘I sure do,’ she replied.

We know someone’s asking a question because those sentences start with What and Do. Both also have a question mark after them. Therefore, does the author really need to clarify each one with asked? Answer: No.

In addition, when one person says something and another person responds, we don’t need an explanation to know they’re responding – it’s bleeding obvious. A simpler (and less annoying) version might be:

‘What is it you want?’ I said.
She gave me a sly smile. ‘I wanna know whose side you’re on.’
‘Do you really man that?’
‘I sure do.’

Ridiculously Long Sentences

Clunky dialogue tags can be irritating enough in themselves, but when popped onto the end of an already over-long sentence, they only underline the author’s ineptness.

EG

‘If we can’t identify the killer’s blood type and there are no discernible fingerprints or other clues, I really don’t see how we’re ever going to find him,’ I then said.

In order to avoid running out of steam before the end of the sentence, this might work better as:

I resisted the urge to sigh. ‘If we can’t identify the killer’s blood type and there are no discernible fingerprints or other clues, I really don’t see how we’re ever going to find him.’

EG

‘I want someone knocking on doors and checking if any of the neighbours has CCTV coverage of the front of the house,’ I said to one of the officers as I pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves and got to work examining the scene.

First of all, there’s too much going on here – she’s pulling on gloves, talking to an officer, and then starting work on the crime scene. It would make more sense as:

I pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves and nodded to one of the officers. ‘I want someone knocking on doors and checking if any of the neighbours has CCTV coverage of the front of the house.’ I watched him walk off, then got to work on the scene.

Changing Points of View

Anyone who has read any of my book reviews will know how much I abhor the old start-off-with-first-person-narrative-and-then-switch-to-all-seeing-narrator scenario.

For me, switching from one to the other only serves to illustrate a lack of skill in the author – ie the inability to tell the story without buggering about with the point of view. If you want to tell a story and have the reader know what everyone in the story is doing, the classic third-person omniscient narrator is the way to go. But if you want to tell it from the hero/heroine’s point of view, go with the first-person narrator. Simples.

Some folks think it’s okay to switch from omniscient narrator to a first-person viewpoint. Well, in my humble opinion, it isn’t, because then we don’t know who is telling the story. If we read a first-person narrated novel – this is what I did, and what I’m planning to do next etc – we can only know what that person knows. To then shift to the point of view of some godlike know-it-all makes no sense. Moral: Don’t mix two POVs if you want to keep the reader on board.

As Sergeant Phil Esterhaus might’ve said, ‘Hey, hey, hey. Let’s be careful out there and avoid the crap writing.’

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