Read Online 250 Things You Should Know About Writing by Chuck Wendig - Free Book Online
Authors: Chuck Wendig
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MacGyver. Or Trojan Horse. Or MacGyver hiding in a Trojan Horse carrying a Swiss Army knife. Didn't I tell you to shut up already? Where's Morgan Freeman when you need him? He'll tell you to shut up and
you'll listen
.
Corollary: "Everything Is Dialogue"
Part of why dialogue reads so easy is because it's conversational, and conversation is how we interact with other humans and, in our heads, with the world. We talk to inanimate objects, for fuck's sake. (What, you've never yelled at a stubborn jar of jelly? SHUT UP HAVE TOO.) There's a secret, here, and that is to treat
all
your writing like it's dialogue. Write things conversationally. Like you're talking to the audience. Like you and the audience?
Real BFFs
. You can abuse this, of course, but the point is that in conversation you'll use straightforward, uncomplicated language to convey your point -- no value in being stodgy and academic when you're just talking. So too is it with writing, whether it's description in a screenplay or in fiction, you'll find value in straightforward, uncomplicated, even talky language. Talk with the audience, don't lecture at them. Everything is dialogue. Some of it's just one-sided, is all.
25 Things You Should Know About… Description
1. Description Is A Misleading Term
Consider: if I were to say to you, "describe for me this lamp," you would begin listing off its traits in earnest. "Base made of iron-wood, 60 watt light-bulb, fraying electric cord, lampshade made of human skin," and on and on. But that is not what you do in fiction. I don't want you to describe every detail. I don't seek an accounting of all the brass tacks. First lesson is: don't describe everything. Knowing how to write description is often about know what not to describe.
2. Bowling A Spare
Less isn't exactly more , here -- less is less, but that's the side on which you should err. Better to make the reader hunger for more detail than be bludgeoned about the head and neck with it. A reader who wants to know more keeps reading. A reader who knows too much will put that book or script down and have a nap as if he just ate a whole plate of carnival food. (Sidenote: I’d shank a dude in the kidneys for a bite of funnel cake.)
3. The Reader Came Here To Work
The reader doesn't realize this, but he wants to get his hands dirty. Or, his brain-hands, at least. I'm paraphrasing the brilliant Rob Donoghue here, but it's like this: when Betty Crocker first starting selling mixes, they were super-easy to make. Packet of powder, add water, bake. But they didn't sell -- in part because they were too easy. It felt like a cheat. So, Crocker chose to leave out the egg -- meaning, a housewife had to add an egg, an extra step. And bam! They sold like a sonofabitch. The lesson is that, your audience wants to work. When they work, they feel invested. Hand them a pick-ax, a pith helmet, and a backpack sprayer filled with sex-lube. Don't give them all parts of the description -- let them fill in details with their imagination. Let them add the egg.
4. Your Bloated Ego Makes For Swollen Description
The author likes to be in control. And you are. But you have to cede some intellectual and imaginary control to the audience. You don't need strict autocracy over description. You only need agency over those details that are critical for the story to be what you want the story to be. Leave everything else to the reader to invent inside their crazy head-caves.
5. Zelazny's Rule Of Three
This reportedly goes back to Roger Zelazny, who said you should stop at three details in description. People aren't going to remember much more than that, anyway. It's a good rule, though I don't think you need to be quite this mathematical about it. Rather, like with most writing advice, the tenet and the practice of that tenet are a bit divergent. (After all, does he mean three details about one character? All characters? The room? A lamp? The heating vent? If I'm allowed three
you'll listen
.
Corollary: "Everything Is Dialogue"
Part of why dialogue reads so easy is because it's conversational, and conversation is how we interact with other humans and, in our heads, with the world. We talk to inanimate objects, for fuck's sake. (What, you've never yelled at a stubborn jar of jelly? SHUT UP HAVE TOO.) There's a secret, here, and that is to treat
all
your writing like it's dialogue. Write things conversationally. Like you're talking to the audience. Like you and the audience?
Real BFFs
. You can abuse this, of course, but the point is that in conversation you'll use straightforward, uncomplicated language to convey your point -- no value in being stodgy and academic when you're just talking. So too is it with writing, whether it's description in a screenplay or in fiction, you'll find value in straightforward, uncomplicated, even talky language. Talk with the audience, don't lecture at them. Everything is dialogue. Some of it's just one-sided, is all.
25 Things You Should Know About… Description
1. Description Is A Misleading Term
Consider: if I were to say to you, "describe for me this lamp," you would begin listing off its traits in earnest. "Base made of iron-wood, 60 watt light-bulb, fraying electric cord, lampshade made of human skin," and on and on. But that is not what you do in fiction. I don't want you to describe every detail. I don't seek an accounting of all the brass tacks. First lesson is: don't describe everything. Knowing how to write description is often about know what not to describe.
2. Bowling A Spare
Less isn't exactly more , here -- less is less, but that's the side on which you should err. Better to make the reader hunger for more detail than be bludgeoned about the head and neck with it. A reader who wants to know more keeps reading. A reader who knows too much will put that book or script down and have a nap as if he just ate a whole plate of carnival food. (Sidenote: I’d shank a dude in the kidneys for a bite of funnel cake.)
3. The Reader Came Here To Work
The reader doesn't realize this, but he wants to get his hands dirty. Or, his brain-hands, at least. I'm paraphrasing the brilliant Rob Donoghue here, but it's like this: when Betty Crocker first starting selling mixes, they were super-easy to make. Packet of powder, add water, bake. But they didn't sell -- in part because they were too easy. It felt like a cheat. So, Crocker chose to leave out the egg -- meaning, a housewife had to add an egg, an extra step. And bam! They sold like a sonofabitch. The lesson is that, your audience wants to work. When they work, they feel invested. Hand them a pick-ax, a pith helmet, and a backpack sprayer filled with sex-lube. Don't give them all parts of the description -- let them fill in details with their imagination. Let them add the egg.
4. Your Bloated Ego Makes For Swollen Description
The author likes to be in control. And you are. But you have to cede some intellectual and imaginary control to the audience. You don't need strict autocracy over description. You only need agency over those details that are critical for the story to be what you want the story to be. Leave everything else to the reader to invent inside their crazy head-caves.
5. Zelazny's Rule Of Three
This reportedly goes back to Roger Zelazny, who said you should stop at three details in description. People aren't going to remember much more than that, anyway. It's a good rule, though I don't think you need to be quite this mathematical about it. Rather, like with most writing advice, the tenet and the practice of that tenet are a bit divergent. (After all, does he mean three details about one character? All characters? The room? A lamp? The heating vent? If I'm allowed three
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