Wit

I’m no great wit, plus I don’t get humor, generally. I even tend to tell people jokes go right over my head, literally. And I’d said that several times, before I figured out why people who know how short I am laugh at it, see I really don’t understand comedy. It eludes me.

As a teen, I have clear memories of me trying to explain to my father why what he just said was illogical while my stepmother and the oldest of my siblings present laughed hysterically, and the youngest two (who were toddlers at the time) watched with looks of wonder on their faces. It took me years to figure out that they were laughing as much about my reaction as they were about the joke my father just shared. This wasn’t a one-time memory. It happened at just about every dinner we had as a family.

It’s like a standing joke in my family that I don’t get jokes.

I’m not very droll either.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve come up with excellent comebacks a week or two after the fact. It’s kind of annoying, since words are supposed to be my strength. I find it even harder to take that while words are not my husband’s forte by a long shot, he is a wit.

Case in point, I was watching TV when a commercial came on for a company selling power chairs, and my husband walked into the room just the announcer said, “Who are you going to call?”

And he looked right at the screen and said, “Ghostbusters!”

Now that joke I got, but I’d have never thought of saying it, not in a million years. And I own both Ghostbusters and Ghostbuster 2 on DVD. I like those movies.

I sorely wish I could be that quick, but at least my characters don’t have that problem. Of course, they have the advantage that I go over their dialogue dozens of times before I even show my story to my twin. Actually, I tend to rewrite dialogue at least a half a dozen times before I move on the next scene, and I still might just go back a day or two later to make even more changes, when I finally come up with a better response. J

On the harder scenes, I rewrite the dialogue well over a dozen times before I move on. So, you see, my characters never have to relive some event and think about what would have been a better comeback. They’re lucky; they’re not me.

Plus when it comes to putting humor into my stories, I’m never sure I managed it, until my twin says I did. That’s part of why I let her read my rough drafts. (If you can honestly call something that been edited a dozen or more times unedited. Though, technically I do let her see it before I edit for such things as echo, redundancies, typos, and grammar errors, so it is rough. Maybe I should say, “Revised.”)

Of course, I’m sure other authors out there would find something else the hardest part about writing. I know some who bemoan needing dialogue, and others who have trouble just deciding which POV to use. We all have differences.

Why don’t you share what you find the hardest thing to accomplish in your writing?

Beta Readers

In the world of writers today, we have something which we call beta readers. What are they? Well, for starters, they’re not professionals, they’re not writers, editors, or publishers, they are everyday people who are a capable of sharing an opinion, but not much else.

Beta readers are a good tool to use in our writing. I had one once who noticed a character of mine was behaving illogically, and I’m very grateful for her help. They have their place in our lives, but let’s not depend on them too much.

Depending on a beta reader as a critique partner is like a contractor depending on a homebuyer to inspect his work. It just doesn’t work.

A buyer can see that the trim is in place and everything works, but he can’t possibly understand that the building doesn’t have the correct kind of wiring, the right size of pipes, or the appropriate amount insulation. Those little things that make the difference between a house that will stand the test of time and one that will crumble around your feet.

Sure, a beta reader knows what doesn’t make sense, and may be able to point out grammar errors, but what does such a person know about echo, redundancies, passive vs. active voice, showing vs. telling, and using strong verbs instead of adverbs, or avoiding adjectives. They know nothing about using specific terms instead of general. They don’t know the rules that mean the difference between acceptance and rejection.

So don’t depend on beta readers to help get you published, they don’t know what will help the most, and you’re not going to learn to write better from them.

Depending on beta readers would be the same as if I’d stayed with that first critique group I joined. I improved my grammar under their care, but that’s all. They didn’t even notice that I was telling more than showing, let alone all my echo, redundancies, and passive voice.

Stagnating at a level of a high school grad isn’t going to induce an agent or publisher to buy your manuscript, at most you’ll get a letter telling you to edit it, and then maybe they’ll look at it again.

Of course, how are you going to fix it, if you don’t know what’s wrong?

Think about it. J

Is Good Grammar Enough?

Once upon a time, I joined an online critique group. I was excited when I first learned about it, overjoyed even to find like-minded writers, since the group was exclusively for woman writers of my religion, but my excitement didn’t last long.

I learned of this club soon after getting online, so my first submissions for critique weren’t in the best of shape, I’ll admit that. Back then, grammar check didn’t flag correctly spelled words that weren’t correct for the sentence, so while spell check had been a big help, I had a long way to go, and I knew it.

At one point, after submitting several pieces for critique and only ever getting comments on the grammar, I complained to the group because that’s all they noticed. The reply I got back was that I shouldn’t be submitting something full of stupid errors, because it made it hard to notice anything else.

So I went over the last piece I’d submitted again, fixed the mistakes they had flagged, ran it through my spell and grammar check two more times, then for extra insurance I sent a copy to my — then still in junior high school — niece, to proof. Then I submitted it to the group for critique.

The response?

“This is perfect, no problems whatsoever. Good job!”

And that from several different members of the group. I wanted to scream, “Nobody’s perfect! Teach me something I don’t know!” Yet somehow, I knew they wouldn’t understand my complaint, after all, they only ever commented on grammar mistakes, and nothing else.

I found myself bemoaning my lack of good critiques in a writing chat room with several nonmember friends, some of whom were published with a mid-level publisher, not low-level or self-published like the women on the critique group I was considering not renewing my membership of. One of them offered to read the chapter in question herself. I thanked her profusely and sent it “as is” to her.

She returned it bleeding red, giving me detailed lessons in echo, redundancies, and explaining, which I’m afraid was only the tip of the iceberg of the skills I still needed to learn to write at a level the best publishers in the business expect. But at least it was a start, and I didn’t renew my membership of the other group. They weren’t helping, why waste my money?

I did learn from the author, as well as a professional editor and a college grad with a degree in creative writing. Not that the road was easy, I have mentioned in the past how I nearly gave up once, and I’ll admit it’s a few more times than that. Being A Writer However, I have persevered, I learned and I grew. Though sometimes I wonder where I’d be as a writer today if I’d accepted the pat on the back the members of the one group gave me.

Would I even be as a good of a writer as I am today if I’d accepted that good grammar was the only skill a writer needs? Of course not! I didn’t even learn I was telling more than showing until the pro editor told me so, and it took my college grad friend to teach me the difference. I’d heard “show don’t tell” a lot in online chats not associated with that critique group, but until then I’d never been able to figure it out and without learning all these little details that go way beyond grammar, I wouldn’t be the writer I am today.

I mean, saying grammar is the only thing you need to know about writing, to be able to write excellent stories; is like saying all you need to know about sewing is to how thread a sewing machine, to be able to make a wedding dress. (And if you think that, you’ve never tried to adjust a pattern, inset a zipper, or make a buttonhole. Oh wait; I avoided the buttonholes on my wedding dress. J)

So, do you think good grammar is enough to make a person a good writer? Or do you realize, as I did, that there’s more to writing a story than the proper placement of words and punctuation? After all, grade-schoolers should know that much. J

Being A Writer

I didn’t get internet service until 1998, and boy did it open up a whole new world for me, especially after I found an online writing community, now defunct, but where I met a lot of writers and renewed my interest in the craft. Unfortunately, after well over a decade of disuse, my skills, which weren’t that good in first place (especially in spelling), were rusty. And that’s not considering how limited my vocabulary had become.

So, to say the least, my first foray into the realm again after so many years was horrible. But I was lucky to have met a kind woman who sweetly took me under her wing and started giving me the grammar lessons I’d forgotten and worked with me on my spelling.

She also told me about active and passive voice, and “show don’t tell” and I was able to find a mentor in a published author, who helped me until she got too busy. Then I made friends with a professional editor who gave me a critique, and somewhere in there, I learned about Funds for Writers http://www.fundsforwriters.com. And the editor, Hope Clark told me about The Writer’s Chatroom at http://www.writerschatroom.com/Enter.htm.

With their help, I struggled, I groaned, I even cried. At one point, I told my twin, “Maybe I’m not cut out to be a writer,” she encouraged me and I grew as a writer. And I learned a lot.

Today, I can spot passive voice in a heartbeat and I’m down to 0%. I also don’t need my spell check as often, my vocabulary has grown by leaps and bounds, and I even know the difference between showing and telling. Plus I’ve learned about echo, redundancies, and flow.

I haven’t sold a novel yet, however I think I’m on the right track, because not only does practice make perfect but I’m not stagnating anymore.

What do you think? J

Writing Twins

My sister and I have had several people tell us we should write a novel together, not because we both write, or because we think alike (frankly we don’t, at least not always) but because we’re twins.

I just don’t get why. What does our twin-ness have to do with our writing? Being a twin doesn’t make us better writers; it just means we have the same genes. And it isn’t as if being a twin has helped any other writers make it big in the world.

I mean name a set of twins who are both writers, go on, name a set.

Ann Landers and Dear Abby?

They didn’t become household names because they’re twins; they became household names because they knew their stuff! The fact that they were twins is just a curiosity, nothing more; so why should my sister and I “play up” our twin-ness?

Because curiosity breeds interest, and the idea is that interest could generate sells.

Nice idea, but has it ever worked for any other set of twins?

I mean I can name some famous twins, but other than the aforementioned advice columnist, none of them are writers. They are in fact actors, most of whom got their start in Hollywood because there are two of them.  

Like say the Olsen twins, and Tia and Tamara Mowry.

But there are a lot more sets of twins who played one role that never made it big, and I can name one actor who made it in television whose twin never even tried to be become an actor. They were identical; I saw them once on a TV game show.

Who’s the actor?

Conrad Bain, the fellow who played the Dad in Different Strokes.

So I’m still back to what does my twin-ness have to do with my writing?

Nothing, other than it’s a fact about me.

Nothing, other than we both write, and we often brainstorm together.

Being a twin is just a part of who I am, like being the wife of a historical re-enactor is just part of who I am. Put those together and they just might make me an interesting person.

Now to think of ways to play up our twin-ness.

Any suggestions? J