Author crazies — we all have them. Fears and worries that — as artists, craftsmen, and business people — drive us a peculiar kind of nuts. One of the biggest crazies, though, is the thought, “I’m the only one thinking this.” One by one we’ll be taking those thoughts out of the back of our brains and showcasing just how universal they are. And to highlight this, Kat starts us off with a discussion of what every author fears — or at least, she thinks every one does…
A comedian goes onstage and starts a routine. Let’s say she’s got two choices:
1) She starts an anecdote that the audience can relate to on a universal level (i.e., something that anyone in the audience might be familiar with, either personally or through someone they know) — the humor comes out of exploring this universal concept, sometimes from a new or personal angle.
2) She starts with an anecdote that is, on the face, supposed to be universal, but instead is so deeply particular (and often disturbing) that the humor first comes from the audience realizing that the comedian’s “universal” experience is actually just her own, sometimes embarrassing one — and then again from watching the comedian realizing that her “universal” is anything but.
That second option can be funny in a comedy routine, but it’s something that I worry about all the time: What if I’m trying to describe something I think everyone can relate to, but instead it just shows how weird I am?
Here’s an off-the-cuff example: I happen to love the smell of cigarettes and cigars. I don’t smoke, but I’m happy to inhale and sigh dreamily if someone happens to be smoking near me. I know I’m not in the majority, though, so it’s important for me to remember when it’s appropriate to use the scent of cigarette smoke as a description.
I mean a couple of things when I say “appropriate” — obviously no one out there can tell me what I can and can’t write (though in reality, I have to keep in mind my editor, the copyeditor, the proofreader, and a few thousand readers…), but if I’m in the business of creating an experience in the audience’s mind, then writing something confusing or jolting isn’t going to help me. An unusual description can be appropriate when using it to highlight a character; it can be inappropriate when setting a scene using a third-person omniscient narrator to evoke a particular image in a reader’s mind.
Examples!
Good idea for a general positive-smoke description: Early morning, and the air was thick with fog and wet-wood campfire smoke.
Bad idea for a general handsome/yummy description: He leaned forward, the sweet smell of an early morning cigarette still fresh on his clothes.
In modern Western society these days, smelling like cigarette smoke isn’t going to be seen as a positive — in fact, without further description, the poor character might be immediately labeled as a bit untrustworthy, or deceptive. I find it hot, but my reader probably won’t.
This whole “hot or not” issue can get particularly awkward in romance, where the author is explicitly trying to induce a state of arousal in the reader. (Um, right? That’s what we’re all doing… aren’t we?) A particular description could be absolutely perfect for a vast number of readers, and completely horrible for the rest — as authors, we can’t know what’s going to work. We have some ideas — these days, for instance, a dubious-consent sex scene isn’t necessarily going to be something the majority of readers are going to find attractive as a major romantic jumping off point. But other times, our “universals” may just be whatever floats our own boat, and it’ll be a hit-or-miss proposition for any readers out there (who may then judge us for it. “This author likes dubious consent! GROSS.”).
For me, there’s a difference between knowing that you’re using a maybe-not-universal, and not realizing that your “universal” description is anything but.
My author crazy about universal descriptions: I can’t tell if what I’m describing is actually going to be universally understood! And what if someone thinks I’m weird for thinking it is? This haunts me as I write, and can be a big writing blocker — here’s my process to get beyond it:
- Who cares if it’s not universal? It’ll probably work for somebody, and that somebody will be very, very happy.
- Okay, I care that’s it’s not universal. Double-check whatever the problem phrase is with a trusted beta reader.
- What if the beta reader is just as weird as me? Go back to not caring.
- Not caring still doesn’t work. Fine. Recast the description to be a bit more universal.
- I don’t want to give up my beautiful prose! That thing with the cigarette smoke really works. Is there a way I can recast the scene to make it clear that the smoke is supposed to be attractive? Well, if I make it a judgment call on the part of the female character, and maybe tie it in to some memory… maybe having to do with a past relationship that ended badly? But was worth the heartache? Hm…
And the next thing I know, maybe I’ve got a more rounded character and a better setup for my plot. This crazy might have a positive spin to it.
…or maybe not! Such is the power of the author crazies. Is there a description you’ve stumbled over that didn’t fit the bill? Did you write something that someone else choked over? Everyone’s a little mad here — join in!
