{"id":1491,"date":"2011-08-06T14:40:05","date_gmt":"2011-08-06T19:40:05","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.davehitt.com\/blog2\/?p=1491"},"modified":"2011-08-08T07:15:41","modified_gmt":"2011-08-08T12:15:41","slug":"avoiding-cliches","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.davehitt.com\/blog2\/avoiding-cliches\/","title":{"rendered":"Avoiding Cliches"},"content":{"rendered":"

It’s easier to learn from bad writing than from good writing. Good writers integrate the techniques of their craft so smoothly it’s often difficult to figure out exactly what they’ve done. It’s like enjoying a great dish prepared by a master chef – you know it’s delicious, but can’t quite figure out the ingredients or techniques he used. Bad writing, on the other hand, is easy to spot. Sloppy or incompetent techniques stick out like a sore thumb, reminding you “don’t do this.”<\/p>\n

That last sentence, for instance. Cliche similes and metaphors snap discriminating readers out of the spell you’re casting. It taps them on the shoulder and whispers in their ear, “He’s not very good, is he?” Do it too often and that whisper becomes a shout.<\/p>\n

The other day I started reading “The Jury Master” \u00c2\u00a0by Robert Dugoni. The book was covered with blurbs praising it’s sharp writing and perfectly drawn chacacters.<\/p>\n

The cliches started on page two.<\/p>\n

“Steiner had a head of thinning silver hair, a smile that could melt butter\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6”<\/em><\/p>\n

“The light flashed – blinding white that sent a lightning bolt of pain shooting from the base of his skull to a dagger point behind the eyes.”<\/em> Wow, three Clich\u00c3\u00a9s in one sentence. That’s not easy to do.<\/p>\n

“For the moment her steel-blue eyes\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6<\/em>” Could we maybe get some eyes compared to a\u00c2\u00a0different\u00c2\u00a0kind of metal? \u00c2\u00a0Might I suggest aluminum?<\/p>\n

“The vein in his neck – the one that bulged when he became angry – protruded above the collar of his starched white shirt like a swollen river.”<\/em> That one isn’t a cliche. It’s just really bad. When you visualize it the proportions are ridiculous to the point of being goofy.<\/p>\n

“He buttoned his jacket and approached the jury, but they now refused to acknowledge him and left him standing at the railing like an unwelcome relative – hoping that if they ignored him long enough he would just go away.”<\/em> The “unwelcome relative” is fine. (At least he didn’t mention a red-headed stepchild). He should have stopped right there, but instead he continues on and ruins it with yet another cliche.<\/p>\n

“They fell like dominoes\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6” \u00c2\u00a0<\/em>Come on.<\/em><\/p>\n

“Short of living in fear, barring our doors and windows and living in cages like animals\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6”<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>That was all in chapter one. When chapter two presented me with “like finding a needle in a haystack” and “He looked like a deer caught in headlights,” I lost all interest in reading any further.<\/p>\n

While you’re writing, in the zone and the words are just pouring out, it’s easy to slap in a cliche, intending to fix it later. Later, while editing, it’s easy to miss it or even convince yourself that it’s not all that bad. If stopping to come up with a more clever comparison will interrupt your writing flow, just insert a note for the next edit. For instance, rather than writing “he stuck out like a sore thumb,” add “he {need metaphor – out of place}” and continue writing. \u00c2\u00a0If you do use an offending\u00c2\u00a0phrase\u00c2\u00a0highlight it with a colored background, which makes it easy to find and impossible to ignore. \u00c2\u00a0(I use yellow for things that need to be rewritten\/replaced, and pink for things that need further research.) \u00c2\u00a0Sometimes your bracketed description will provide the inspiration – either now or later – for something fresher, like “he stuck out like a hillbilly at a debutante ball.”<\/p>\n

If you have trouble inventing good metaphors and similes, just leave them out entirely. They are an optional tool. You can write well without them. Personally, I like ’em, and they usually come to me like\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6like\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6something and, um\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6something else. I’ll have to go back and fix that later.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It’s easier to learn from bad writing than from good writing. Good writers integrate the techniques of their craft so smoothly it’s often difficult to figure out exactly what they’ve done. It’s like enjoying a great dish prepared by a master chef – you know it’s delicious, but can’t quite figure out the ingredients or […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[63],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.davehitt.com\/blog2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1491"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.davehitt.com\/blog2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.davehitt.com\/blog2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.davehitt.com\/blog2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.davehitt.com\/blog2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1491"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"http:\/\/www.davehitt.com\/blog2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1491\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1496,"href":"http:\/\/www.davehitt.com\/blog2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1491\/revisions\/1496"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.davehitt.com\/blog2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1491"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.davehitt.com\/blog2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1491"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.davehitt.com\/blog2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1491"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}