Hey there. Still alive, business as usual.
Except the search for good original reading material. That...is not going as well.
I've probably acquired twenty or so new books recently, between free downloads on Amazon or purchases at same. Each one got decent-to-glowing reviews. Each one has a really interesting description, really promising.
Each one might as well be written by a first-semester creative writing student with no writing experience. And I'm so annoyed, I'm going to dissect a bit of it. I'm accustomed to finding some pretty poor writing in some fan fiction, but I think I've been spoiled by just how good fannish writing has a tendency to be.
Before the autopsy, lemme say this. Writing original fiction isn't like writing fanfic. We all know that, on some level at least. Fanfic doesn't require you to build the universe, and on a more micro level it doesn't usually require you to do much introduction of new characters. OCs, yes, and we even have terms for poorly written OCs. But for the most part we avoid having to start from whole cloth. For us, the universe/garment is already created, and we -- to stretch this metaphor -- embroider adventures upon it. Right.
But a lot of the guidelines and technical elements that we value hold true beyond the borders of fan writing, slopping right into original. Or should hold true. Except evidently they don't.
First
victim example: From
A Question of Will, which was/is a freebie on Amazon. Think I'm understanding now why they're giving it away.
Will Stark ran toward his home as fast as he could, shattered at the likelihood that his wife and son would already be dead when he got there. And it would be his fault. He ran, not for enjoyment or accomplishment, but in a desperate attempt, no matter how futile,to prevent his wife and son from being brutally murdered.
How much more involving would this have been, had the author refrained from telling us about it? How afraid was the author that we would not GET it? Instead of giving us a man in terror, showing us that terror, he has to tell us about it. "He's shattered, okay? Really way, way beyond scared or worried. And I'll tell you why here in a second, but first off -- really really shit-scared. Okay? Got that? Because that's really important that you get it. Really, really broken up about it. Okay. And it's his wife and his son, all right? Both of them, wife AND son. Desperate. And like, it's not going to work, you realize, right? Okay. Just making sure."
I realize a lot of people are sick of being told, Show, don't tell. We can point to any number of instances in which truly great writers have told us great chunks of story, and say, "But they did it."
Yes, they did. Because they know two things: when to break the rules, and how to gorram WRITE.
Show, don't tell is important not just because it is a much more gripping, involving way to tell a story. It's important because it speaks directly to the author's fear that They Might Not Get It. The author can't physically hold your hand while you read their work. They can't whisper over your shoulder, "See what I did there? That means X."
So out of fear, they tell. Tell, tell, tell. At the expense of allowing the reader to experience the story -- to be shown, so that they can feel it directly.
Visions of their lifeless faces floated before his eyes, causing him to slow momentarily.
If there is one word I am allowed to kill, permanently, it's "causing." It makes the reader trip. Don't get in the fucking reader's way, asshole! "Visions of their lifeless faces floated before his eyes, and he stumbled, nearly pitching headlong on the blacktop." What the fuck ever, just DON'T SAY "CAUSING." It's passive! Be active!
He had turned thirty-five years old today, an age at which running just over a mile should be simple. He'd focused on his business and his family, though, and his fitness levels had suffered as a result.
Why the everlasting fuck are you giving me a treatise on fitness here? Why do you need to explain that the guy's out of shape? Show me the guy huffing and puffing and sweating like he's just sat two hours in a dry sauna -- I'll get what you're laying out. I'm not a fucking idiot.
But while we're at it -- what's with the apologism for your guy's spare tire? What significance does that hold, in his current situation? Do I care WHY he's out of shape? I should not have TIME to care -- the dude's wife and son are fixing to DIE and you hold me up by talking about the fucker's BMI? Who gives a shit? Here's a good way to refer to lack of fitness in a tense situation: John McClane, Die Hard 2: "I gotta stop smoking cigarettes." THAT'S IT. Next thing you know, you'll refer to your guy's most recent EKG and talk about his cardiac enzyme levels -- FUCK THAT, SHOW ME THE GUY STRUGGLING TO GET WHERE HE'S GOING.
Okay, one more.
The sharp pains wracking his body weren't entirely due to physical neglect. He'd needed to break into his own highly secure gated community, climbing over a building and dropping to the ground. He'd twisted his ankle upon hitting the ground, but he'd pressed on. There would be time to deal with that type of pain later. He had to get to his house. The lives of Hope and Josh hung in the balance.
...
Yeah. I honestly don't even know where to start. This is just BAD.
Let's switch to another book. Because surely this must just be one bad apple. Next one'll be better.
Right?
From
The Synchronicity War:
Cmdr. Victor Shiloh noticed that the usual Bridge chatter had died down to almost nothing as the Squadron emerged from Jumpspace. Everyone knew the stakes. One of their own was missing, and they were here to find her. FE 319 -- Frigates didn't rate names -- had not reported back to base, and it hadn't sent a message drone. This was very worrisome. If the ship had been able to return, it would have. If it had malfunctioned or there was some other reason for a delayed return, such as a major discovery of some kind, it would have sent the drone back. The entire squadron, seven Frigates under the command of Squadron Leader Torres, had been sent to investigate. FE 344, under Cmdr. Shiloh, was designated as the rear guard, staying behind at the point where the Squadron emerged so that it could jump back into Jumpspace with a warning for HQ if something nasty happened to the other six ships of the squadron. FE 344 decelerated to a crawl, relatively speaking, while it changed its orientation to enable it to jump away from this star system instead of closer to it. With that maneuver done, Shiloh relaxed just a bit. They could now jump at a moment's notice if they had to."
Just typing that out hurt me. I don't -- I can't -- that's ONE PARAGRAPH. The first fucking paragraph of the entire story. Did no one warn this person that the Wall of Text is something to be avoided when at all possible, and certainly when it's the fucking first page? And What's with the Random Capitalization? Author's name is German -- is this a translation? No? WTF? Is all hard SF this bad? Am I crying? No, wait, it's blood, blood from my motherfucking eyeballs after reading this while I typed its sorry ass into my post.
Okay. I know that there are plenty of excellent hard SF books out there. I've read some pretty recently, most notable of which have been the Expanse books.
But I dled five books yesterday, and all five were like this. Excruciatingly poorly written, and well-reviewed. That last godforsaken paragraph -- that book has 4.5 stars on Amazon. Do people LIKE this? Is this the kind of writing that SUCCEEDS?
Okay. Done now.
