Kurt R.A. Giambastiani

We all have our individual quirks of style. Little, verbal quirks. We use a phrase once, like it, use it again, and eventually it becomes habit.

For most people (i.e,. non-authors), this isn’t a problem. A quirky turn of phrase, a tag-line, a preference for the spelling “grey” instead of “gray”–these are not problems for most people.

For writers, though, it can be a problem. Why? Because you can’t see them. And because others can.

Yesterday, I discovered a new one of my own.

I’m editing this new novelette, and about halfway through I started to notice a repeated rhythm.

“[blahblah],” s/he said, [do]ing [some action]. “[blahtyblahtyblah].”

I went back to the beginning and looked specifically for instances of that rhythm, that structure.

Wow.

They were like lice. Hidden, unseen, sucking the life out of my prose one drop at time. Not at the beginning, which I’d edited and re-edited, but later on, hidden in the thickest part of the story. They were frakking everywhere.

Long ago, when writers still wrote with pen and paper, I learned the lesson of “said bookisms” and how they were anathema. I learned it the hard way, by making the error myself. I would take all instances of “said” and replace them with replies, demands, exhortations, ejaculations…you get the picture. It was awful, and the critiques were (rightfully) scathing.

In reaction, I naturally went too far the other way. I used only the word “said” when I wanted to assign a bit of dialogue to a character. This was no better, as I thus eliminated the possibility of whispers, questions, and the occasional shout.

By the time I turned to novels, my style had achieved a happy medium. “Said” helped me identify the speaker, but only on occasion. A lot of dialogue went untagged. It was better, cleaner, more readable. At some point, though, I seem to have gotten into the habit of accompanying a “said” with an action.

That structure isn’t bad, in and of itself, but when overused, it creates a monotony. It sets up a drone in the reader’s mind, and I definitely do not want my prose to drone. I don’t want droning. I don’t want predictability.

Luckily, it’s an easy thing to spot, and an easy thing to fix. Even more fortunate is that this led me to a further discovery: I use “said” much more than it is needed.

Try this experiment. Take a section of your latest piece of fiction; a story or a chapter. Search for the word “said.” Take them all out. All of them. Now, read the two versions, one after the other. I’ll bet you’ll find that the second one is better in many ways.

Am I now one of those “never use ‘said'” pedants? No. I use “said” throughout this novelette, but each one is there because I made a conscious decision to leave it in. I use it when it helps, not because it’s my habit to use it.

If you want before-after examples, let me know and I’ll post some here.

k