Author: LDS Publisher

Sometimes when I go over a first draft, I run into hilarious problems like dangling modifiers, inconsistencies, and repetition.

One common repitition problem in first drafts is writers repeating themselves by trying too hard to abide by the adage of “show, not tell.”

So they do both: they tell something, then show it. Or vice versa: show it, then recap it by telling what we just saw. I’m guilty of this myself and must weed out repetition from early drafts.

An example:

Sue cried. Plump tears fells down her cheeks as racking sobs wrenched from her throat.

Do we really need to state that Sue cried? The tears and sobs sort of make that self-explanatory, no?

You might think that’s an over-the-top exaggeration, but it’s surprisingly easily for redundancies like that to slip in, even when they sound obvious and funny when they’re pointed out.

Hence our friend: revision!

The other day, I stumbled across a fun blog post that viewed redundancy in a way I hadn’t thought of before: using adjectives and nouns together that say the same thing.

The post is by Scott over at Slice of Diction. He made a list of 30 redundant adjective-noun word pairs. Check out the post link above for the full list.

Here are a couple of my favorites he came up with, each of which make me snicker and go, “As opposed to . . .?”

• amorous romance
• contentious dispute
• cryptic mystery
• insane lunacy
• rural countryside
• stupid idiot
• uniquely different

My gut reaction (after laughing) was to think of the flip side: A cool writing exercise would be to find unexpected adjectives, ones that are counter to the noun you put them next to. That could change the meaning or image in surprising and really cool ways.

(Okay, so there’s also the point that a writer shouldn’t over-use adjectives. Note to self: use adjectives only when needed. Make the most out of your writing toolbox.)

Using some of Scott’s words, instead the obvious amorous romance, what about a tempestuous romance?

Or a brilliant idiot?

A peaceful dispute?

Commonly different?
(Reminds me of the “non-conformists” I went to high school with. They refused to conform . . . by wearing black eyeliner, black duster coats, and hair that required Aqua Net to defy gravity. They all looked the same by non-conforming?)

Story and character ideas are already popping up for me simply by thinking of new, unexpected word pairs.

Just for fun, let’s see what we can come up with here!

Think of adjective-noun redundancy word pairs.

In the comments, throw out your best repetitive word pair (be sure it’s adjective + noun).

Don’t forget to go register your comment here, so you’ll be entered to win one of our sponsoring books!

Annette Lyon  is a Whitney Award winner, the recipient of Utah’s Best of State medal for fiction, and the author of eight novels, a cookbook, and a grammar guide, plus over a hundred magazine articles. She’s a senior editor at Precision Editing Group and a cum laude graduate from BYU with a degree in English. When she’s not writing, editing, knitting, or eating chocolate, she can be found mothering and avoiding the spots on the kitchen floor. Find her online at blog.annettelyon.com and on Twitter: @AnnetteLyon.

Need a little extra grammar help? Get Annette’s grammar book, There, Their, They’re: A No-Tears Guide to Grammar from the Word Nerd.

One of my least favorite things about today’s world is the prevalence of people who say, “It is what it is.”

Forget about the threat of global financial meltdown, skyrocketing teen pregnancy, and the pervasive appeal of the Kardashians—whenever I hear someone say, “It is what it is,” it makes me want to weep and run for the hills.

After punching the person who said it.

I mean, really, what the heck does that even mean?  “It is what it is.”  Huh?  You ever walk up to someone and say out of the blue, “That water sure is wet,” or “I find almost all ice to be cold.”  Those make about as much self-defining sense as “It is what it is.”

That being said, there is one area where sometimes you can legitimately say “It is what it is” and actually have it mean something.  And that area is writing.

I’ve gotten many emails and personal queries about how to keep writing when the ideas aren’t flowing.  As a novelist, I try to get out at least 5,000 words a day.  10,000 is not unusual.  I write anywhere from three to eight books a year, along with numerous screenplays, blog entries, short stories, etc. etc. blah blah blah.  And they don’t suck, either: my last book, The Haunted, spent almost two months on Amazon’s Horror Bestsellers list (and is still selling quite well), and (I was recently informed) is an official Whitney Awards nominee.  So I must be doing something right to get that many people willing to shell out a couple bucks for my work.  And when other authors and aspiring authors hear about how fast I work, they want to know my secret.

My secret is simple, and not very secret at all: sometimes you just gotta say, “It is what it is.”  By that I mean: most people who suffer from “writer’s block” don’t really suffer from any kind of block.  Rather, they suffer from what one of my old writing teachers called the “Poop Bird.”  (He didn’t actually call it that, but the word he did use was a naughty one, so I’ll leave it up to you to figure out.)

The Poop Bird is an imaginary creature that sits on many writers’ shoulders and whispers, “That’s no good,” as they type.  If it’s your typical PB, he (or she, the Poop Bird comes in many shapes, sizes, and genders) will even try to get a jump on his work by telling you, “That idea is no good,” before you even start typing.  This is what most “writer’s block” really is: a self-editing function that insists on a perfect first draft.

This is bupkis.  First drafts are supposed to be messy.  They’re supposed to need work.  That’s why God invented White Out and “delete” keys.

So what’s my secret?  What’s the method I use to make sure I get out hundreds of pages when others are still working on an opening paragraph?  I’ve killed the PB.  I have learned to say, “This isn’t perfect.  It’s a first draft.  Mistakes are okay.”

In other words, I can look at a word or a sentence or a page and know it needs work and still be okay with it.

Sometimes it’s the time that you put in that matters as much as the quality.  Sometimes being a “good writer” means being able to just get mediocre words on the page.  Sometimes…

… sometimes, it is what it is.

 

LDSP: Readers, have you killed your Poop Bird? How did you do it? Tell us in the comments.

 

Michaelbrent Collings is an internationally bestselling novelist and produced screenwriter who writes primarily horror but also dabbles in YA fantasy and hopes to develop superpowers someday.  His next novel, Apparition, will be available soon, and all his books are available at amazon or via his website at http://michaelbrentcollings.com.  You can follow him on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/MichaelbrentCollings or on Twitter @mbcollings.  Failing that, you can buy a few of his books and help put his kids through college.