When The Feedsack Dress came out in 2007, I started a blog on Typepad that focused on life during the late 1940s and early 1950s. I stopped posting there in 2012, but you can still link to The Feedsack Kids. I’m posting some new blogs and my favorite old ones here.
Category Archives: Basic Tools
How Editors Stay in Style
If you’re an editor, you know the importance of the new 1192-page 18th edition of the Chicago Manual of Style. Since the University of Chicago Press published the first edition in 1906, other book publishers, many periodicals, and now electronic publications have accepted Chicago as the primary guide.
Even publishers who write their own style manuals, or settle for a pamphlet on which Chicago guidelines they don’t accept, study the latest edition to adjust editorial styles.
Without style manuals, we would rely on writers’ personal preferences and editors’ memories to be consistent on thousands of disputed questions. The two most common may be which numbers to write out and whether to use the serial comma. Most newspaper style manuals, for example, digress from Chicago in writing out numbers up to 10 (versus through one hundred) and in omitting the comma before and in a series (e.g., apples, oranges and bananas) unless it’s required for clarity.
IMHO, whatever the style manual, clarity should supersede consistency.
Chicago’s editors do extensive research and consultation on trends. The 18th, for example, reaffirms some old wavering choices (e.g., capitalizing the first word in a complete sentence following a colon) and identifies spelling preferences for new terms (e.g., omitting the hyphens in ebooks and esports).
Hyphenation is a major headache, and the manual devotes more than a dozen pages to multiple examples of pesky hyphens. Through several editions, I’ve referred to that advice more than any other.
Some changes reflect social attitudes, including preferred ways to refer to individuals or groups. In an earlier edition, editors recommended accepting they as a singular (standard centuries ago then abandoned in formal writing) but withdrew it because of protests. The 18th edition cautiously gives they as an option for referring to a person whose gender is unknown. Stay tuned.
Another change is capitalizing Indigenous, considered a parallel to Black and White. (Some style manuals favor lower case for all three.) In recent decades I‘ve seen editors move from Indian to Native American or the name of a particular tribe (e.g., Navajo) to American Indian.
The 18th also updates production sections, including advice for self-publishers on such basics as choosing fonts and margins and such new problems as preparing notes for an audio book. AI receives attention (e.g., citing AI-generated images).
To read more information on changes in all sections, go to https://www.chicagomanualofstyle.org/help-tools/what-s-new.html. If you want to buy the 18th, shop around for the best price. The list price is $75, but you may find a better deal from the publisher or an online bookseller. If you plan to use the manual in an editorial office or don’t lift weights, consider the online edition.
—Carolyn Mulford
In Praise of “Said”
When I began the transition from nonfiction to fiction, writing dialogue seemed easy. Then my critique readers pointed out my lack of skill in using tags, the words that identify the speaker. In general, tags precede (Mary said, “You’re late. Get going.”), lie within, (“You’re late,” Mary said. “Get going.”), or follow the dialogue (“You’re late. Get going,” Mary said.).
Even if only two people are talking, readers need reminders of which one’s speaking after a few exchanges. The writer fails if the reader has to go back to figure out who’s saying what. Rule of thumb: When the reader pauses, the writer loses.
If the dialogue stands strong, the reader may need only a quick, direct ID. The top choice is the speaker’s name (or a stand-in for it) and said. At first I doubted this, thinking that verb too common and dull. Later I realized that much of the value of said comes from its being inobtrusive and neutral.
Guard against replacing “said” with a vocalization—e.g., shouted, screamed, muttered, murmured, hissed, growled—that doesn’t fit the situation just because you seek a synonym. I may run a search to catch an overuse of any of those words. In an entire novel, you may need to rewrite if anyone mutters or shouts more than five or six times. An exception would be using some manner of speaking, such as murmuring, to portray a character.
Writers often turn to asked and exclaimed for variety. Fine, but be careful. As an editor, I object to the redundancy of asked plus a question mark and exclaimed plus an exclamation point. For example, Mary asked, “What did he want?”
Another handy tag is the listener’s name in the dialogue, as in, “John, you know I’ll never agree to that.” Limit that ploy to two times in an exchange.
Tags often serve as much more than IDs. They can reveal character, show action, and emphasize setting. Instead of Mary said, tell the reader what Mary did or how, when, where, or why she did it. For example, Mary stood on tiptoe to peer over the stone wall. “The bedroom light’s on, but I don’t see anyone.”
Another function is to clarify what the reader can’t determine from the words on the page. If the character says, “I’d never do that,” is he being sarcastic or earnest or deceitful? Sometimes the most efficient way to convey that is through the scorned adverb, e.g., said hotly.
Partly to avoid adverbs, we lean on a dozen or so handy verbs, such as smile, grin, laugh, giggle, and chortle. When is the last time you chortled? In my drafts, I search for a surplus of such verbs and phrases, including nod, shrug, raise an eyebrow, glance, study, stare, turn away, lean back/forward. Know thyself and search accordingly.
Tags become critical in the difficult scenes with several speakers. Such scenes present multiple technical challenges: differentiating the speakers, establishing their physical positions in relation to each other, and focusing on plot amidst multiple reactions. Sometimes writers block out crowded scenes the way a stage director would before writing them.
A common place for such scenes is around a table. Readers soon tune out if the characters do nothing but sip, stir, chew, bite, and gobble. Work to come up with multipurpose tags that emphasize character or advance plot. For example, John cut his pancake into precise one-inch squares. “The medical examiner didn’t find any breakfast in the stomach.”
If you get stuck, fall back on said, at least in the first draft. Most of the time that short, efficient word does the job.
—Carolyn Mulford
The Fun Starts Before the Writing Begins
This is part of the September 2014 Sisters in Crime (SinC) Blog Hop. Authors answer one of several questions. I chose to write about what part of the writing process I enjoy most.
The writing process breaks into three parts: coming up with the idea, writing the first draft, and revising until ready for readers.
Each part of the process delights and frustrates me because each one stimulates a different part of my intellect and emotions. For plain old fun and excitement, though, nothing beats that first step of choosing a story’s building blocks—usually who, what, and where.
Any of the three may spark an idea, but most sparks soon go out. Writing an 85,000-word mystery takes real commitment. My enduring ideas integrate characters, plot, and setting into a story I can’t resist telling either because I can’t imagine how it will end or, more often with mysteries, because I can imagine the ending but not how the characters will get there. Whichever it is, if I don’t think the journey will entertain and satisfy me, I won’t put words on paper.
Here’s how the three building blocks came together for my Show Me series. The idea for the protagonist sprang from a news story about an outed CIA covert operative, drew on my personal experiences in living abroad, and crystallized as I planned to move back to my home state, Missouri, after being away for decades. I had my major ongoing characters and the setting in a struggling rural county.
What took more time was working out a plot that fit the major characters and the setting. I don’t know either the people or where they live thoroughly until I’ve written many pages, of course, and they change somewhat from book to book, but I had to acquaint myself with their goals, flaws, and major personality traits before I wrote the first words of Show Me the Murder.
Some writers know their characters instantly because they and their friends are the characters. I don’t find myself interesting enough to appear in my fiction. While some of my friends and family members would qualify, I wouldn’t expose what makes them so interesting to the world. I create my characters from scratch, blending pieces of hundreds of people I’ve known to create complicated beings who intrigue and amuse me. I revel in exploring the motivations, reactions, and attitudes of those who come to life on the page.
I approach setting in much the same way. I don’t stage a crime in a real place, but I try hard to reflect the region’s cultural and economic environment, including speech patterns and attitudes.
Ideas for plots often come from conversations with people around me and the local news. That includes not just crimes (e.g., meth cooking and importation in Show Me the Murder and rustling in Show Me the Deadly Deer) but economic and social problems (e.g., elder abuse in Show Me the Gold and racism in Show Me the Ashes, the upcoming books in the series).
Another factor to consider is whether the characters and setting will foster plots that will interest me, and readers, over several books. A part of the challenge is to find an idea you can expand on with pleasure and for profit for years.
—Carolyn Mulford
For other SinC Blog Hops, go to Judy Hogan’s http://postmenopausalzest.blogspot.com (posted September 21, 2014), and Maya Corrigan’s “Writing While I Sleep” at http://mayacorrigan.com/smorgasblog (postied September 21, 2014).