Blame Patrick Richardson for this. Yes, really. First he sent me to this article then he started quoting from the author’s wiki page where his “philosophy” resides. And, well… oh dear.
So, herewith we have Jonathan Franzen, he who has more awards than books (or, for that matter, published works) and who uses his dahlingness to be “relevant” and “daring” and other such nonsense, on ten serious (this is how you tell it’s important) rules for writers:
- The reader is a friend, not an adversary, not a spectator.
This is Franzen’s first rule – by implication the most important of them all. And he gets it wrong. No, the reader is not a friend. Or an adversary or a spectator. The reader is a reader. More than that, the reader is a customer – but that gets into the issues uncovered by rule 2. - Fiction that isn’t an author’s personal adventure into the frightening or the unknown isn’t worth writing for anything but money.
Note our dear dahling’s less than subtle distaste for the folding stuff. Listen well: there is nothing more noble than writing for money. When you write for money you write to bring pleasure to a large number of people who – by definition – are not you. Moreover you write to bring them sufficient pleasure that they will part with money representing (for an indie ebook purchase) about an hour’s work for someone on minimum wage. The implied contract here is truly awesome – I, the author, will do my best to compensate you for an hour or more of your life’s work by entertaining and pleasing you for several hours.Frankly, my personal adventure into the frightening or unknown doesn’t cut it. What I find frightening – or don’t know – is someone else’s “meh”. Or their WTF? - Never use the word “then” as a conjunction – we have “and” for this purpose. Substituting “then” is the lazy or tone-deaf writer’s non-solution to the problem of too many “ands” on the page.
And then Franzen’s head exploded. Both of them. Which caused a lot of damage to his left hand because he’s such a wanker he just has to have the other head in his hand all time.Folks, rules about wording, voice, first/second (dear $DEITY$ please no)/third person and so forth are loose guidelines to be broken if the need for it is there. Know what the rules of grammar are, and then break them when it will improve your writing. - Write in the third person unless a really distinctive first-person voice offers itself irresistibly.
Good grief. I have visions of first-person voices walking the grimy streets of second-rate grammarians offering themselves to desperate writers, complete with thigh-high vinyl boots and short-short-short skirts. For a fee, of course. Literary blow jobs don’t come cheap these days. - When information becomes free and universally accessible, voluminous research for a novel is devalued along with it.
More wankage. What Franzen means by this is that when anyone can check your facts, they will and they’ll catch you if you’re lying. Just look at the accuracy count of all the “voluminous” research done by most of the dahlings. Usually it takes less than 60 seconds with a half-assed Google query to debunk their research efforts. Using the full ass is only recommended for thorough fisking efforts because of the distraction value of the actual facts. - The most purely autobiographical fiction requires pure invention. Nobody ever wrote a more autobiographical story than “The Metamorphosis”.
He’s referring to Kafka here, and I don’t know about you, but the I find the implications of what he’s saying here more than a little disgusting. On the obvious front, a man transforming into a bug or cockroach (depending on translation) isn’t exactly what I’d call autobiographical. On a somewhat deeper level, what you see here is someone who actually thinks most people are no better than roaches scurrying through their pathetic little lives, and oh! He is just so far above them because he’s a Literary Genius you see. - You see more sitting still than chasing after.
Chasing after what? You might see more when you’re sitting, but you sure as hell experience more when you’re chasing – or running, come to that. Observing is good, but if you don’t have some idea about experience, if all you do is sit and watch, you’re going to end up either dissecting navel lint, or with your head so far up your fundamental orifice you’re looking out your own mouth. - It’s doubtful that anyone with an Internet connection at his workplace is writing good fiction.
Gosh. Apparently the Internet and good writing can’t coexist. One goes kablooey when the other one is present. Of course, this is the Word Of Wisdom from someone who thinks three pages a day is writing too fast (and of course thinks that if you write it fast it can’t possibly be any good. You’ve got to slave over it and polish every last word until it shines, damn it. This I suppose is why he has more awards than published works). - Interesting verbs are seldom very interesting.
Well, duh, Mr Literary Genius Wanker, of course they aren’t. What’s interesting is the action they actually describe and how well the writer manages to capture that action so that readers can see it happening as they read.Honestly, the number of times this fellow gets the pointy end of the pineapple and thinks he’s got it right… At best he’s half right. Words are words. Strings of letters on paper or a screen. It’s the way they interact with each other and the reader’s mind that makes them interesting and memorable.Unless they’re really bizarre words, anyway, and those are more fun in dictionaries of weird words.
- You have to love before you can be relentless.
Say what? There is no way those two items are related. This reads to me like he was trying for profundity and hit the fundamental orifice instead.
So there you have it. I’ve just sucked away fifteen minutes of your life fisking this drivel. What’s worse is I sucked away a good hour of mine in the process.
Mad Genius Club 
121 responses to “Rules of Writing From a Literary Genius (not)”
Brava, Kate, Brava. There’s nothing wrong with what we do – we write for entertainment. He writes to inflict pain on his readers, evidently. I’d have to say that our readers are happier people!
Thank you, Cedar.
I meant what I said about writing for money. That money has meaning when you look at it that way – and I much prefer happy readers.
Oh, for the love of….
“And” and “then” are different words. They are different words for the very good reason that they mean. different. things. Seriously.
“He ran and jumped” means something quite different from “he ran then jumped.” In the first you’ve got this guy running along, interspersed with jumps. In the second, you’ve got the guy running along, then for some reason–some obstacle in his path, perhaps?–he jumped. Two different sequences of events. “And” implies a parallelism or simultaneity while “then” implies sequential action.
Using one, when the situation calls for the other defeats clarity and creates confusion. And confusion is the death of understanding. And without understanding, any “message” you are trying to convey gets lost and you’re no longer writing for the reader, but for some self-gratification reason. Not that I have anything against self-gratification. But can’t you do it with the door closed and wash your hands afterward rather than sharing it with the world?
This guy’s supposed to be some kind of genius and he doesn’t understand that?
Yep, that was the one that jumped out at me as the worst of his idiotic rules also. I was going to point out that ‘then’ has a different time modifier than ‘and’, you gave a good example of that in your comment.
“The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between the lightning and the lightning bug.” Mark Twain.
Indeed so. Which is why I aim for the lightning (although there are times when I’m lucky to get the lightning bug instead)
They are idiotic rules, aren’t they?
Now if he had written “Don’t use ‘Too’ instead of ‘And’, especially at the beginning of sentences,” I could have totally gotten behind him, if only because in my younger, more foolish days, I read me some John Norman.
I use “And” at the beginning of sentences, particularly when writing first person. Improves flow. Like everything else it’s “don’t use it if you’re using it to inflate the importance of your writing.”
Oh, absolutely. Inflating the importance of one’s writing is something best accomplished with a thesaurus and a sturdy set of rubber gloves.
Now, don’t be too harsh there. There’s room for all things, even “too” instead of “and” – if you know what you’re doing and are using it deliberately.
Ever read “Houseplants of Gor”?
They’re the ones with all the tentacles, right?
… ouch.
Oh, but he’s a LITERARY genius. That makes him special.
I leave it to the MGCers to decide precisely what kind of special it makes him.
Have you ever noticed that people who scorn “writing for money” really mean “writing in order to get money from people who have a choice in whether or not to spend it on your books”.
Writing in order to get money from the people who manage other people’s money, in terms of grants and awards and university appointments is just fine. One doesn’t rack up all that award money and all those lecture gigs with “an author’s personal adventure into the frightening or the unknown”, you get that from tailoring your writing to the academic community that you want to support you.
Ouch! 🙂
Indeed. The truth, it has teeth.
Funny, that… They also seem to disdain those who part with their hard-earned cash for a few hours entertainment.
Forgot to click “notify”.
1. Readers are collaborators. If you write heavy, important, literature (with a capital L) you may well view readers as the enemy because they have their own ideas which may be entirely different than your very important ideas.
2. (The guy must like science fiction and horror.) Anyhow, not writing for money is a subset of #1 where readers (and their judgments) are viewed as enemies.
3. New writers prone to what my editing prof calls “sentence boundary issues” may well use the word “then” to run-on. Leaving it out may not fix the problem.
4. Extremely new writers may also use 1st person badly. It might be better to talk about how to do 1st person *well*.
5. Huh?
6. Again, he must love science fiction and fantasy.
7. Trying too hard can turn your brain off?
8. Well, it’s not as though *I’m* grabbing a few moments to work on a story this morning, am I.
9. This one I agree with rather strongly. Again, it may be a reaction of his to seeing lots of attempts by new writers in (or just out of) college creative writing classes or something who got the idea that “strong” verbs were very important. No one can run, they must dash or sprint or lope.
10. What?
Did he have explanations? I’m not sure I want to know what they were.
I think, though, that most people who read and comment among the Mad Geniuses wouldn’t benefit from these “rules” because they seem to apply to someone who is 1) very very new, and 2) very full of their own artistic selves. OTOH, I’m not sure that very new writers full of their artistic selves would benefit either. Maybe someone forced to write in 3rd person if she never has written anything but rambling Mary Sue 1st person angst would learn something important.
the “don’t write first person rule” blighted my writing for years. Turns out that, like Heinlein, I do better first person. Meh. I’ve written 25 novels. I’ve decided I’m “old” enough to bugger the rules and just write.
I mostly write in 3rd person. A number of my stories have multiple POV characters and that’s hard to do successfully in First Person. (Heinlein did it, but I’m no Heinlein.)
OTOH, the “sword and planet” piece I just started is in First Person (very common in that subgenre) and the first couple thousand words just flowed. (There’s something really exciting about a story that just leaps off your fingertips onto the screen.)
Also, my first person characters are neither Mary Sue nor myself. I’m dangerous, but not like Thena, and I’m not the strong/silent type like Lucius. 😛
It’s just easier to type as they dictate. Seriously.
Some characters are like that. Others you have to ambush and beat up in dark corners before they’ll tell you anything useful.
Zen (string of swear words)
Oh, yeah – multiple first has to be one of the hardest POV styles to get right.
And it’s wonderful when a piece just flows. Pure magic 🙂
Well obviously, as a “rule” it’s pretty stupid. But I know at least one writer who has seen lots and lots of beginner efforts who explains that beginner effort 1st person is often badly done 1st person. You’re not a beginner.
I know there was a general “out of fashion” aspect to 1st person for a while, though now it seems to be “in fashion”. Omni is still pretty much out of fashion but I think that’s changing, too. For a while there was a really strict feeling of “strict third person only or you aren’t a professional”. We can toss that in the rubbish bin, certainly.
I wrote first person better as a beginner too. it has to do with letting the character tell the story and therefore being less nervous.
Absolutely. A strong character will often demand a certain voice.
Certain genres almost require first person as well, See: Noir Detective Thrillers.
Yup.
Plus it would be seriously wanky to write one’s autobiography in third person.
But, what about Kafka? Isn’t his magnum opus autobiography about being a giant bug written in third person?
*ducks!*
I’m sure that’s because what with having chelicerae instead of fingers he had to dictate it…
I’ve seen (and written) appalling first person and appalling third. Beginners usually write badly because they haven’t learned the skills that go with getting the story in their head onto the page – and it is a bit easier to do that with first person because you can mentally “become” that person.
This is not necessarily a good thing.
The worst, however, is pretty much always second person. I’ve never seen anyone pull it off even close to tolerably.
Me either – but I’m not going to tell anyone they can’t do it. Who knows, they might be that rare genius who can.
Charles Stross took an interesting stab at it. Largely, I think, because it necessarily harkens back to various iterations of the role playing game and his story fitted well with that idea. But as to wanting to read it other than a small dose now and again? No.
Yeah. Most of the times I’ve seen it were in choose your own adventure books. And REEKED
The computer game genre known as “Interactive Fiction” or IF for short (which used to be called “text adventures”, but has moved much further in the fiction direction in recent years) is almost always written in the second person, because of the nature of the work’s interaction with the player. And some of them are quite evocative. If you’ve never had the pleasure of playing Photopia by Adam Cadre, you’re missing out on a real piece of art. All done in the second person, with multiple viewpoint shifts. I want to talk more about it, but it’s really something you need to experience for yourself with no preconceived notions of where the story is going. Just… go find a copy. (It’s free.)
Oh, cool! I’ve never seen that done well – I’ll have to dig into that.
Bugger the rules works for me. I haven’t written that many novels, but I write first or third or whatever depending on what works for the piece I’m writing.
There’s challenges either way. Some of the challenges come from fads in publishing, like “don’t write first person”
New writers – particularly very new writers – are often given tons of advice which could be mistaken for good fertilizer: it looks like manure, and it smells like manure. If they are unfortunate enough to use it like manure it will poison their writing instead of helping it to grow.
I think that this is so true. And very new writers are often demanding rules be given them, too. They don’t want to hear that there aren’t rules. (And particularly don’t want to hear that there isn’t a secret handshake.)
Of course. It’s so much easier if all you have to do is learn the super-sekrit handshake to get in…
Mind you, the way “in” has come to resemble the lower end of the digestive tract, I wouldn’t want to be there.
On his first “rule”, readers are his “friends” because very few people want to listen to him talking in person. IE his readers (if any) are his only friends. [Evil Grin]
If he has any… I’d rather have a lot of readers, thankyouverymuch.
The way I read #6 was a little different than your interpretation. While I did understand your view, I saw #6 as a post-modern-style declaration that the facts are not “real enough”, and to get to the truth, you have to make up things.
Oh, and I thought he was specifically calling Kafka a cockroach. Other people might be other unsavory things.
That’s probably valid, too. Assuming there’s any real sense behind any of his “rules”.
I can’t help but think this gut is simply trying to cut out competition by giving bad advice to anyone who’ll listen to him…
Oh, but the rules are already there. You just have to know if you’re aiming for something people will like, or award-winning suckitudinous fiction.
The “14 Writers handwriting advice on their hands” had more useful information than pretty much the whole page of “Ten rules for writing.” Well, in my opinion. *grin*
Jonathan Franzen’s readers aren’t friends. They’re enablers.
I almost sprayed my keyboard when I read your comment. Bravo!
It’s just as well I don’t have any liquid around right now, or I’d have sprayed my keyboard, too.
(Applause)
Gee! Is somebody insecure about his ability much?
M
There is an element of “you can’t reject me, I rejected YOU first!” about him, isn’t there? This is why bullying is bad, kids. The victim grows up and inflicts litrachure on the world.
That last sentence needs a spew warning!
I think this entire comment thread needs one of those.
The new anti-bullying PSA! “Don’t bully – that kid you bullied will write the books they torture your kids with in high school.”
Unto the seventh generation.
Gosh, ya think?
“Literary blow jobs don’t come cheap these days”
That quote alone is worth the price of admission.
Upon consideration, I’m not sure I’d want one. Too much hemming and hawing, and not enough getting down to business.
You will note that I manfully refrained from using the term, “Beating around the bush”…
Thank you… I’d rather save that for those who enjoy such activities.
The hemming and hawing is the best part. That uncertainty in their eye, the grappling of a task too big for their literary senses… ahhh, yes. It boosts my ego.
The hemming and hawing is the best part. That uncertainty in their eye, the grappling of a task too big for their literary senses… ahhh, yes. It boosts my ego.
Ewww…
Don’t judge me.
amen.
Thank you!
Here’s another one that just absolutely thinks way too much of himself. http://www.salon.com/2013/09/25/university_of_toronto_professor_david_gilmour_is_not_interested_in_teaching_books_by_women/
Gee. Wouldn’t it be nice if there was a shortage of self-important literary wankers instead of the glut that keeps inflicting its opinions on us?
Oh, Kate, it gets even better. He has a response to the interview. We have all misjudged him. It was a poor choice of words. After all, he’s not a politician. He’s a writer and there’s not a sexist or racist bone in his body. http://arts.nationalpost.com/2013/09/25/david-gilmour-there-isnt-a-racist-or-a-sexist-bone-in-my-body/
So he did another interview to prove beyond the shadow of a doubt he is an idiot? While stating in the interview he is doing it so that his ‘impeccable record isn’t besmirched’?
The first article was obviously very heavily slanted, and one could think that possibly his comments and answers were taken out of context and cut and pasted to make him look bad. But then he does another ‘apology’ interview to prove that however biased the writer of the first article was, she still painted a fairly accurate picture of him?
Now, bearcat, you aren’t supposed to take him at his word. After all, he is a writer and not a politician so he doesn’t have to carefully choose his words — gag. I thought as writers, that’s what we were supposed to do.
What I got is that as a writer you need to be most concerned about how your accent sounds in a foreign language (or second language I guess, French isn’t really foreign in Canada) but don’t worry about the words you are actually using, the accent is everything.
But of course. You must be properly hip. Or whatever the appropriate trend is for the creatures these days.
At least with an attitude like that he probably won’t be accused of attempting to seduce his female students.
No, just discriminating against them. (And I wish I was joking)
I think he probably likes the kind of “friends” who can’t talk back to him. Whether characters or voiceless readers doesn’t really enter into it.
“It’s doubtful that anyone with an Internet connection at his workplace is writing good fiction.”
IMO, the “best” fiction (in a “literary” sense) of recent decades has been written by Neal Stephenson. I’m pretty sure he has an Internet connection.
Of course, Stephenson manages to tell a damned good story in the midst of the lovely and complex language, so maybe he doesn’t count.
Possibly, yes.
I’ve managed to write some half-decent stuff with an internet connection, and Sarah and Dave have written some bloody good stuff with an internet connection. Somehow I don’t think it’s the Internet that’s this fellow’s problem…
Long ago I read a great story about Neal Stephenson and did some google-fu. http://slashdot.org/story/04/10/20/1518217/neal-stephenson-responds-with-wit-and-humor
The literary lady had never heard of him because he’s famous. It’s charming.
Thanks for the link!
The funny thing is that Stephenson is exactly the kind of writer that those folks like (that’s why I put “literary” and “good” in scare quotes — I don’t define good anywhere near as narrowly as they do).
If he just excised that damned plot (out, damned plot!) and picked a respectable subject, e.g. middle-aged college professors having affairs with their students (rather than data havens, the scientific underpinnings of the Enlightenment and modern finance, or ninja pizza delivery dudes driving high-tech cars through the logo), he’d win major prizes.
I think even some of the literary people must agree, given that he’s being invited to this type of conference in the first place.
I don’t know if he’s still there, but at one point he was working with Blue Origin. He may have been the person who designed the incredibly baroque logo.
Didn’t you just love the epic battle with William Gibson?
Found it interesting as well. While I’m not sure Stephenson “writes to my tastes”, he gets high marks in my book for that piece. Oh, on his writing, Your Mileage May Vary applies. [Smile]
I’ve been running into this sort of attitude in all sorts of odd places as information systems develop. It appears to come from a particular class of people who spent a great deal of their time learning the ‘rules’ so that they could be held in esteem. If information flow moves so freely that the billions can begin to form their own opinions and place their esteem where they best see fit, then all that time learning the rules was wasted.
I’ve seen if from artists of all stripes, but also from MDs, various PhDs, teachers, business types, and onward. Note, I’m not talking about people valuing their technical education, we pay people for their technical expertise for a reason. I am talking about people valuing the profession being viewed as obscure arcana by the larger population.
From his perspective, if anybody can become a storyteller and the unwashed masses get to judge that work without gatekeepers whatever became of the value of learning all the word polishing rules he slaved over? Where’s his esteem?!? *stampy foot*
I really like this from David Gaughran in the immediately linked article:
The silver service at the top table is being rudely disrupted…
*grumbling* click the benighted follow-up box *mumbling*
That sums it up rather nicely. The elites who got their cachet from being chosen by gatekeepers and all that went with it really don’t like this new world.
Yep. And this new world makes me giddy and joyous. Now 7 billion of us don’t have to pretend we’re exactly like the few thousand* elites in every particular.
*Few thousand with millions of sycophants.
Me too! Even if there’s only a few thousand in that 7 billion who want to read something I wrote, it’s a few thousand more than would get to see it under the rule of the elites.
And that means a few thousand that might actually pick up a book that they, y’know, actually *like* as opposed to one that makes them feel talked down to. There’s got to be an audience for that sort of story, I suppose. Seriously. Given the odd stuff that makes the NYT bestseller list (which still confuses the crap outta me), I think this proves that people are pretty weird.
Buying the first book isn’t always a “vote of confidence.” Something I’ve not seen before in one of the genres I read, I’ll probably pick up and read the back cover. If I get curious, I might start reading. If I can’t put it down and the store’s going to close in five minutes, that book is going home with me if I have to skip getting gas and walk home. No, I’m not an addict, I can stop anytime!
The real kicker, I think, is when someone wants to read the sequel, or something else by this author. I’ve picked up a book by (author not named) that started out fascinating and went ewww on me halfway through. That one reside in the “to be sold to the used bookstore” bin now, with a marker in my head that says “don’t read this guy anymore.” The stories that keep me turning pages way past when I should sleep are the ones that I’ll keep buying.
I’m no writer of stories, but it doesn’t take a lot of wisdom to note that those “rules” aren’t for everyone, or even a most people. A better, broader set of, not rules, but guidelines would probably be more useful. And a lot of those things have probably already been said here. *grin*
There should be an ewww warning on books. I was reading a sample of something I tend not to read, just because it was about a “secret.” (I need to know these things). Beautiful prose, intriguing opening –the wife had opened a To Be Opened in the Event of My Death letter from her husband–and I really wanted to know what was in it. There was lots of stuff about her and her kids, and then…and then…there was a random memory of a random death of a kid. It was emotionally vivid and way too real. I wouldn’t have looked inside if there had been a warning of any sort.
I’m going back to space opera, where the battles are clean.
And the heroes are dirty? (ahem… sorry… It’s getting late for me and ze feelthy mind is reacting)
I like Elmore Leonard’s list: (Apparently his list *for himself*… a person could append “… unless it’s necessary.” to the end of each, and should!)
Still… I really *really* like number 10. 🙂
1. Never open a book with weather.
2. Avoid prologues.
3. Never use a verb other than “said” to carry dialogue.
4. Never use an adverb to modify the verb “said” … he admonished gravely.
5. Keep your exclamation points under control. You are allowed no more than two or three per 100,000 words of prose.
6. Never use the words “suddenly” or “all hell broke loose.”
7. Use regional dialect, patois, sparingly.
8. Avoid detailed descriptions of characters.
9. Don’t go into great detail describing places and things.
10. Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.
There’s something to all of these, so long as “unless necessary” provides a way out. And, yes, 10 is lovely.
Re: #1, I’m still amused that Madeline L’Engle opened A Wrinkle in Time with “It was a dark and stormy night,” verbatim, and made it work. She must have had fun writing that one.
I can see where Elmore Leonard wanted to avoid weather openings. His cut-to-the-exciting-bits style didn’t have time for that, and yet he often had books taking place in places that had lots of weather.
Russian novelists love weather openings. It works for them, because weather in Russia is in-your-face, even if you live in the big city. The weather really does affect everybody’s movements and feelings there, so it’s a natural. It also gives them a chance to be poetic or funny early in the book, so that they don’t feel the need to throw in gratuitous poetic stuff later. (On the comedy side, you’ve never lived until you’ve seen the Sun compared to a giant flying blini.)
There’s a lot of literary stuff that bothers me in English that doesn’t bother me in Russian. Devices that are always used pretentiously in English lit tend to be used dead seriously in Russian, and vice versa. But heck, in Russian lit, anything that isn’t melancholy or bitter is a good thing.
Every language has its own cadence and flow. What works in English doesn’t always work in other languages – English tends to be a language that wants to get to the point. The various flavors of Celtic I’ve looked at are much more ever decreasing circles before they reach the actual topic.
Yes, indeed. The fun part is when you know half your readers skip THIS bit – and the other half skip something else and would be upset if you took THIS bit out.
It’s “fun” to listen to some of David Weber’s fans complain about the tech infodumps *and* then hear other David Weber’s fans want more tech info. [Very Big Grin]
That was the case I was thinking of.
I’ve just sucked away fifteen minutes of your life fisking this drivel.
Pish-tosh! I am deeply, nay, profoundly wounded by your low opinion of my reading speed!
Eight or nine minutes, tops.
I did have to more or less average things.
I offer my most abject apologies for underestimating your reading speed.
Don’t apologize. It’s people like him who make people like me feel inadequate. Tttthhhpppbbbttt!!! to Robin. 😛
Off topic marketing information: a little while ago I asked if anyone understood Kobo’s rankings. I had put my book on Kobo through Smashwords and the only information I had was that it had a rank for a couple of weeks in August, which I figured meant I had sold at least one book on Kobo. Not so. Kobo just reported its figures to Smashwords for August and there had been no sales, so I checked with Smashwords, who told me that Kobo’s algorithm was a mystery. I have to agree. With Amazon and B&N, your rank improves when you make sales. With Kobo, my best guess is that it creeps up in their rankings just because someone looked at it. Otherwise, it’s just random.
Oh, a Schroedinger ranking system? Until you look it’s in an indeterminate state. Possibly PA, which tends to be rather indeterminate a lot of the time.
2. Fiction that isn’t an author’s personal adventure into the frightening or the unknown isn’t worth writing for anything but money.
I keep trying to parse this sentence, and stumbling. Let me try here. First, let’s simplify it and leave off the modifier for a moment:
Fiction that isn’t X isn’t worth writing.
That can be easily turned into a positive statement:
Fiction that is X is worth writing.
But then we have to look at the modifier. “For anything but money.” That means that the reason we write fiction that isn’t X is for money. Sounds like a good reason to write fiction that isn’t X to me?
On the other hand, trying to add this to the statement about fiction that is X…
Fiction that is X is worth writing for something besides money?
Which seems to imply that fiction that is X will not make money, but there’s some other reason to do it.
If one of my students had this in a paper, I would definitely have a comment about it suggesting they try to figure out what it is they are trying to say, and then say it clearly. Double negatives and a modifier that claims “anything” as a useful class? Nah… Either come right and say:
You should write fiction that is X because Y. You won’t get paid, but Y is worth it.
Or
You should write fiction that isn’t X because you will be paid.
But don’t beat around the bush.
“You should write fiction that is X because Y. You won’t get paid, but Y is worth it.
Or
You should write fiction that isn’t X because you will be paid.
But don’t beat around the bush.”
Unless you want a literary blow job.
When I’m mentoring young journalists I call sentences like that “committing fluffery.” It sounds good, it’s well constructed, it makes sense on the surface. But it means bupkis.
I may copy that one out. It sounds like something my professional writing prof would say. Including using the word “bupkis.” 🙂
be my guest, we should all aspire to avoid committing fluffery
And those who commit it should be committed. Reading the fluffery is like being choked with cotton candy.
It annoys the bush (unless you’re getting a literary blow job).
Nice list. About the only thing missing is the advice to write only in your mother language.
Possibly he thinks that’s too obvious to mention?
Yep, probably.
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