The Creative Writer’s Style Guide

The other day I mentioned I was looking for a book. I don’t know if I called it by name. Most likely I referred to it as a writing book—maybe a grammar book. I’ve found it improperly shelved between two outdated software manuals for 3D modeling. “The Creative Writer’s Style Guide” by Christopher T. Leland (dude! where’s you blog?) reads surprisingly well for an instructional book on writing. I credit Leland’s conversational style, terse but varied examples, and lack of assignments for my success in reading his book cover to cover.

The first half of the book outlines technical grammar rules by reflecting examples from fiction writing. He begins with nouns—in case you didn’t know what those were—moves through verbs, then parts of speech, sentences, capitalization, punctuation, and concludes with dialogue and thought. Thankfully he doesn’t use an extended example throughout with the same characters and same scenes playing out only with a new focus on the next topic.

If the first half of the book teaches you how words work, the later half teaches you how to work the words. This last part covers language and style. I’m sure there are excellent topics left out, but looking over the table of contents the gaps don’t spring to mind considering that Leland covers images, slang and dialect, offensive words, description, pace, accuracy, allusion, and experimentation. For me, the book is like a personally designed Swiss Army knife. It matches the appropriate amount of blades with the necessary array of gadgets and leaves out the useless awl and magnifying glass.

I am glad to have it back on my desk—maybe now I’ll get to using that dash correctly.

Word count: 274
Day 215

That Which Precipitates May Soon Redisolve

Last night I had planned to pick up where I left of with yesterday’s writing. I refrained from posting that due to its brevity and incompleteness. With a two-day posting I could conceal the meager effort involved. I didn’t pick that up and now I’m admitting to its low quality so I’ve saved nothing. How’s that for 1000 Days transparency?

Overnight, or this morning since I’m unlikely to have remembered anything from last night following sleep, I precipitated an image of a bowl of liquid draped with a cloth sitting on a simple table or pedestal and surrounded by figures of learning. Presumably this image set the scene for some pending magic ritual.

So, cloth on bowl with liquid on a table surrounded by characters wouldn’t initially seem troublesome to write. Except it is in two ways: first–because this is the order I ran into the troubles–is that I’m sure this reflects some real world scenario and quality obliges me to find the true names of such objects; second, I can’t immediately uncover any conflict in the setting. I don’t have the words and even if I did I would know which direction to steer them.

I have a bottle of vodka chilling in the freezer–it’s been there for weeks. Vodka is the primary ingredient for White Russians, Black Russians, and Colorado Bulldogs (I think). There are other ingredients. I may have them, but I doubt it. I’m stalled in my indulgences for lack of knowing. But unlike my trouble with words this morning this vodka trouble is mitigated with a simple search on the Internet. There is an answer and it need only be found.

Anyway, I had something there and eight interruptions from kids pretty much dissolved what ever tenuous hold I had on that.

Word count: 304
Day 214

A Reminder of Remembering

Not that you can tell but I’m using Buzzword to compose this post. Check it out if you’re into collecting logins or online document creation and maybe collaboration tools.

Gentle wood smoke permeated the chill air. Its dissipated pungency and indistinct origin made Genevieve think coals smoldered over the hillock rather than that flames raged [replace with better fire cliché]. More than anything, the near rotten odor reminded her of remembering.

Word count: 71
Day 213