Stephen Edden's Blog, page 2

Pomposity and Circumstances

In my last blog, I warned against the perils of trying to be too clever. I should have said that the one occasion when it's acceptable to use the sort of words I talked about is when you're employing them to prick someone else's pomposity. In such cases, I recommend that you throw in a word they probably won't understand. There's a great website that offers a word for each day of the (working) week. It's www.wordsmith.org and it's free. Even on those occasions when you already know the word, it's interesting to see it in use and to read the etymology (which doesn't tend lazily to default to Latin or Greek, but often goes all the way back to Sanskrit). Last week's offerings included "flagitious" (wicked), "thewless" (cowardly), "flaneur" (idler) and "cunctator" (procrastinator). All great words to keep up your sleeve for that moment when you want to prick someone's pomposity.

A Warning Against Sesquipedalian Dexterity

Yesterday, I talked about differing views on dumbing down. Personally, I believe the related crime of what I'll call "pratting up" is just as heinous. In both cases, the failings of the writer intrude on the story. If I say a character "has a way with words", that would be sloppy. At best, you'd skim over it, the words therefore being redundant. At worst, you'd stop and think: what does that mean? It's too vague. If I say he "hides behind clever wordplay", you get a much clearer picture about what he does with words and why. If I say he "resorts to sesquipedalian dexterity", you'll probably stop thinking about the story and think about the writer: what a prat, you'll be thinking. The point is: the first and the last destroy the magic, the middle course was best. Dumbing down is bad. Words such as "chillax" should not even make it to the dictionary. Some words owe their existence to snobbery and oneupmanship. The dictionary is where they should stay. Learn them, but for God's sake don't use them.

"Globish"

Interesting article in The Independent today by the excellent Mary Dejevsky, bemoaning the rise of "lowest common denominator" global English (Globish) as a threat to traditional English. I disagree on two levels.
My first point is the rest of the world(with the possible exception of France!) has had the good grace to accept the inevitable rise of English (especially American English). Do we not owe it to them to welcome a standard, easily-learned version of English with all irregularitites (spelling, irregular verbs etc) ironed out, so that the world can embrace it easily in the way that, say, Maths or Music can be readily learned? Would it not benefit English kids, too, to learn the structure of this new language alongside the native tongue, so that they understand the fundamentals of grammar? (Esperanto revisted: I thing it was said of Esperanto - "Great concept, wrong language")
My second point is that many English people can distinguish between and understand anything from William Tyndale's translation of the Bible to pulp fiction. (English can be all things to all people. This is its glory. I refer you to Melvyn Bragg's wonderful book "The Adventure of English".) Why not a standard global version of English, too. Maybe someone with the influence of Lord Bragg should agitate for this. Over to you, your Lordship!

Shorts (on a Sunny Day in May)

I tend to write brief emails, short chapters, mini blogs. Perhaps I'm a child of the modern age of instant gratification, though I like to think it's more about learning to reduce things to the bare minimum. I believe it was Churchill who said: "Sorry, I didn't have time to write a shorter speech." It's about structuring things in a way that has the needs of the listener uppermost. What do I want them to think v. what do I want to say? Which brings me to today's topic. I was asked how being a published writer differs from being a hobbyist. My reply was that you have to stop writing for your own entertainment and ask how the reader will benefit from having invested x hours of their precious time in your book . . . though, admittedly, not all novels pass that test with flying colours!

Books and Picasso

I'm sometimes asked about the highs and lows of writing. I guess the biggest buzz has to be the first time a novel that you've written is sitting in front of you. Must be the closest a man can come to giving birth! But the elation doesn't last. They say any work of art is never completed, it's only ever abandoned. Suddenly, there's a line in the sand: all those imperfections that you want to eradicate and you can't. There are the typos you can't now correct. Why didn't you or the editor spot them?? Every new novel I read these days seems to have at least three typos! Then you do a public reading and you wish you'd changed this bit or that. Like a child, your book has a life of its own and you slowly lose control. I imagine even Picasso looked at his finished paintings and thought: I wish I'd done that line slightly differently. Yet, he had to live with that. Probably shrugged his shoulders and thought: oh well, lets rustle up another masterpiece. So lets end on that note. What's good enough for Picasso is good enough for me. The Wordsmith's Tale

The Wordsmith's Tale

My new publisher has been nagging at me to start a blog, ahead of publication of a new novel (publication date to be confirmed). I'm new to this game. Having to be a shameless self-publicist is by far the worst aspect of the whole writing process. I suppose it's more a case of dipping toes into cold water than taking the plunge, but here goes. I'll try to update as close to daily as possible and maybe give insights into how the business of being a writer feels. The highs and the lows. The fear is that, like Father Mackenzie, in the song 'Eleanor Rigby', by The Beatles, there's a danger of "writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear". Let me know if there's anyone out there! So, that's the intro. See you tomorrow!The Wordsmith's TaleStephen Edden