Thursday, April 23, 2015

Burn Your Thesaurus

Tell me everything you see wrong with the paragraph that follows.
Joey skipped backwards from the alien who canned his assault rifle with his right involvement. Plop! Plop! Inferno illuminated the dim lane. Pain flared in Joey’s pump while the warhead stuck his left shoulder.
How could anyone write something so damn confusing? The culprits could only exist as a thesaurus and a writer who trusts one. Or, to put it another way:
In what way might somebody inscribe approximately so damn blurring? The felons could only survive as a phrasebook and a critic who principal unique.
See the problem?
Writers often turn to the hellish thesaurus when they repeatedly write the same word and want desperately to adopt another one it its place.
Writers occasionally turn to a thesaurus because they falsely believe it will make their work sound more intellectual.
These writers fail to grasp how much more powerful the word “home” compares to “habitation” or “Mother” to “parental unit.”
You saw from the above examples how off-the-mark a thesaurus’s examples land. Thesauruses (especially online versions such as the one that accompanies Microsoft Word) love to group together words that almost mean the same thing.
Writers who discover that they wrote the word “ran” a few times too often will replace it with words that fail to fit. A bank robber shouldn’t “skip” from the police (unless she or he serves as a peculiar robber).
A robber likewise shouldn’t “trek” from the police. A lost cub scout shouldn’t “stroll” away from a grizzly bear or “saunter” from a masked killer.
Thesauruses offer bouquets of breaks to script the wicked words and thus deliver the sinful opinions to your bibliophiles.
What should you do, then, when you use the word “run” too often?
Consider the two paragraphs that follow.
1) Joey ran down the hall, ran smack into Tanya. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her along as he ran. They ran faster and faster, while the barks of the dogs that ran after them grew closer and closer.
2) Joey jogged down the hall, darted smack into Tanya. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her along as he fled. They escaped faster and faster, while the barks of the dogs that chased after them grew closer and closer.
I honestly prefer the former. Yes, the word “ran” feels repetitive, but the replacements for “ran” still feel repetitive in the latter. The second paragraph even reeks of desperation, the author’s struggles to impress her or his readers.
We already know that Joey runs. We don’t need the author to remind us. We don’t, as readers, suspect that Joey halted simply because the author went an entire sentence without the word “ran.”
Consider this revision:
Joey ran down the hall, smack into Tanya. He grabbed her wrist, pulled her along. They gained speed, while the dogs that chased them grew closer.
Another set of examples:
1) She loved him with all her heart, loved him with her body and soul. She never loved anyone so much. The love she felt swelled as a balloon within her love-filled heart.
2) She treasured him with all her heart, longed for him with her body and soul. She never adored anyone so much. The tenderness she felt swelled as a balloon within her affection-filled heart.
I admit, foremost, that an author should never tell her or his reader how a character feels when she or he could show us. A demonstration, via body language perhaps, would serve far better.
I again would rather take the first paragraph than the second. However, the following example seems better still.
She loved him with all her heart, body, and soul. She never before felt this strange swell, like a balloon within her chest.
Notice that the word “love” only appeared once, as did “heart,” and yet we still conveyed this character’s feelings without repetitive words or a single, desperate nosedive into a thesaurus.
I most prefer this example, though:
She helped him crawl into bed. He released a sudden, wet cry, vomited across her chest, and slumped. His weak legs shook. She guided him beneath his sheets and went to fetch some towels. She cleaned him first, gazed into his eyes—dulled by the chemotherapy. “I never liked that shirt anyway.”
Never tell us how a character feels. Prove it.
I find that only one excuse exists for the existence of the otherwise troublesome thesaurus. Ever experience a word on the tip of your tongue, the perfect word for your sentence, but you can’t think of it?

Think of a word similar to it, look it up in the thesauruses, and hunt for the word you actually want.

Thanks for reading.
Daughters of Darkwana received a sweet, succinct review, which you can read here, http://www.thebookeaters.co.uk/daughters-of-darkwana-by-martin-wolt-jr/
         Also, the third book in my series, Diaries of Darkwana, recently arrived on Kindle. You can find the entire series at http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_2?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Darkwana&rh=i%3Aaps%2Ck%3ADarkwana

Short stories at martinwolt.blogspot.com
A look at the politics of the entertainment world at EntertainmentMicroscope.blogspot.com.
An inside look at my novels (such as Daughters of Darkwana, which you can now find on Kindle) at Darkwana.blogspot.com

Tips to improve your fiction at FictionFormula.blogspot.com

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