I was reading a book.
It described a "grand and eloquent" structure. I read a few more paragraphs, waiting for the ruined structure to speak or at least have writing carved in it. By the end of the page, the dark truth set in: the author didn't mean "eloquent." He meant "elegant." He might have thought he was saying that the ruins "spoke" of a time long ago, but if that's the case, he was mistaken. Here I was, holding a published book with glowing reviews on the back, and it contained not a typo, but an entirely misused word? What was I missing? Possibly I should just go along with what the blurbs said, and understand that it was a great book and a great story. Okay.
Right! So how else would you describe a newly-bound book except to reference the smell of "crisp ink"?
Oh, here's a clever way to get in expository dialogue: have your characters run through London at midnight through freezing rain while being pursued by man-eating creatures. You can use this downtime to have them exchange explanations in lengthy and articulate paragraphs. It really reinforces the sense of reality so necessary when you mix real world with fantasy. Like here, in another place, after the Bad Guy has rammed the Good Guys' ship in two and left them to drown, so they all float around in the ocean talking. Except one character who swims back to the boat, dashes into the cabin, and rescues an important artifact right before the ship goes down.
What a clever way to have the Good Guys escape pursuit another time, by getting your character -- whose years of cannon practice hasn't actually been mentioned previously -- light the fuse which fires the cannon "instantly" and have the cannonball hit the mark "exactly."
It was yesterday that I was reading this book, and I'm still not halfway through it. I kept throwing it down so I could dash off an email to Darren complaining about the word choices and absolutely unbelievable explanations. Four emails, all on the topic of a book that wasn't interesting enough to finish. Finally, Darren sent back an email:
Dear Addie,
Please take Mama's book and hide it under my bed.
Love,
Daddy
Addie, who previously had no involvement in the situation, was confused. I explained to her that I'd been emailing Daddy about the book and he was tired of hearing about it. Addie replied:
Dear daddy,
mama loves the book! Who would have the heart to hide a book that a grown-up loved, anyway?!
love,addie.
She didn't understand why Darren and I thought her email was far and away better than the book itself.
As for me, I fixed Darren with a writhing glance. One that clearly said, "Ha, I am syndicated!"
-- SJ
P.S. Here, There Be Dragons by James Owen
Saturday, July 26, 2008
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9 comments:
LOL - that's the best review I've read today. Your sarcasm just made my day.
I just skimmed through to the end of it. I've decided that it would have come out a better book if the author had re-read it even once after he wrote it.
He has his Bad Guy take a sword and slash a "deep, brutal gash" across the Good Guy's chest. A few lines later it mentions that "the bleeding was slowing." After that, the wound is never mentioned again. I'm left trying to figure out where on your chest you could incur a deep brutal gash that would stop bleeding after a few minutes, allowing you to take part in articulate expository dialogue, and then heal on its own?
Aarrgh. The worst part is that the author so obviously believes it's a grand, rolicking tale with deep character development.
-- SJ
I can't help but comment on your blog...we've never met, but Jill J., Lindsay J. and I are very good friends.(actually, I live up on the "hill", two houses down from Linds))
I have enjoyed your blog for so long and wanted to comment and let you know! What a great post! Loved it! (and many other posts, as well!)
I got the link from Aaron's link gallery...if you want to get to my blog (although not nearly as entertaining as yours!!), go to the gallery and look for a post by 'Su'.
Not to mention the redundancy of 'grand and elegant'.
And I'll bet what he was actually thinking of was "grandiloquent"---or at least, that's why "eloquent" seemed to him like the natural runner-up to "grand" (grandiloquent would also have been wrong for a building).
So, what's more offensive: the bad writing or the fact that the author thinks it's fantastic stuff?
I've been chuckling all morning about your being "syndicated" by Addie's email.
And playing his role in each family drama is Daddy "The Defuser" who has been honing those skills since toddlerhood. Every mom is grateful for one or more of those in the family.
Miss Bev/Mom
p.s. Do Sara's faithful readers know that she honors her in-laws with the charming-Southern terms of "Miss Bev" and "Mr. Phil"? We love the courteous gesture, which is one of the many ways she has endeared herself to us!
su -- you come highly recommended, with friends like those. :) I looked for your blog... are you the Suki who commented on an earlier post?
jmaestro -- After thinking it over while lying in bed with my second bout of a stomach virus, I decided that the author's opinion is what really drives me up the wall. You can see him shaking his head and chuckling over his cleverness. How do I know? Because that's what I do! Only, I have friends (and a husband and a mother) who point out things like, "You know, it weakens your big bad Sauron-type Winter King villain when you give him dialogue like, 'Why don't you just shut up?'"
-- SJ
I do that, except I sit in the same room and read, complaining at intervals about this stupid book that I HAVE to finish but which is irritating the heck out of me.
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