What hill will you die on, even if your copy editor insists otherwise?

 

If I have one weakness as a reader, and as a writer, it is the mystery, the rollercoaster, the silent scourge of the. . .

 

Ellipsis.

 

Editors would much rather we not overuse this literary device, and I believe I know why.

 

Consider what, exactly, is an ellipsis in formal understanding. Dictionary.com states, “the omission from speech or writing of a word or words that are superfluous or able to be understood from contextual clues.”

I disagree, in particular, with the latter half of the statement: “. . . superfluous or able to be understood from contextual clues.”

 

To me those three dots in between one word and another represent . . . universes. An abyss of unspoken thought, reserved emotion, joyous and painful history both known and unknown between two characters embarking in the muddy waters of a conversation in which such pauses are necessary, demanded even. Because there are simply some things that cannot, and should not, be put into beggared words. Some emotions, history and experiences eclipse the containment of spoken speech.

 

Context is quite often in the eye of the beholder—how do a mortal girl and an immortal demi-god share context? How does Hades elucidate his ancient pain to a young Persephone? He cannot . . . not in its entirety. Understanding the whole of his life and circumstances that led to a particular point are beyond her, except in the abstract. That abstract is the ellipsis. In the forced pause where she must set aside the immediacy of her thoughts and biases and . . . what? Consider what she does not know.

 

All of the above renders the term “superfluous,” well . . . superfluous. Nothing which is too big for words is unnecessary. Rather, it is the antithesis of unnecessary.

 

As a reader and writer of fantasy romance, I find ellipsis especially necessary when a character has neither the time nor the words to express a complicated concept, or they refuse to expose themselves to the weakness of doing so. As a writer, I utilize that trio of dots to hone the reader’s focus on the possibility that there is subtext and context on which I would like them to pause, close the book for a moment, and unravel.

 

What is your dragon Lord or your God of the Underworld avoiding? Why? What is their hidden agenda? The story would be ruined, robbed of wonder, if we put every thought and feeling into ink and pixels. If we leave nothing for imagination, we deprive the reader and characters of the journey of discovery.

 

As a reader, I particularly love these opportunities to close my eyes and delve into the inner workings of what a brooding Fae lord, or an immortal wizard, or a fractured heroine may be thinking or feeling. What they are admitting, and why. They point to the consequences should they put into inadequate words the whole of their hopes, their intentions, their scheming.

 

No . . . by denying the reader an ellipsis, we deprive them of the joy of deep reading. The joy of interpretation, of discovery. The joy of embarking on a journey in tandem with the author and characters in which the story the reader is imbibing comes alive in their head with nuance particular to them. Because, after all, no reader reads the same story like another. And in those three tiny universes are where stories morph into . . . epics.

 

That being said, I do have a rule. In drafting, I allow myself as many ellipses as I want. When I reread my story, I begin a new conversation with my characters. Is this ellipsis a time to hold back, or is it a time for plain speech? Will closing the gap of understanding sacrifice the communication (because some things need to be left unsaid) or is there greater benefit in showing one's verbal cards? Should you continue to veil your pain, or unleash it?

 

However, I err on the side of letting ellipses rein. Of allowing imagination to hold sway rather than boxing stories into claustrophobic cubes of singular understanding.

Emma Alysin is a 40 mumble mumble bi-racial American Muslim mom of five who writes SFR, PNR & Fantasy Romance.
Her dragons, fae, and bears will most interest readers who like their alphas strong, protective, and smokin’ hot; their heroines feisty, brainy, too grown to give a *uck, and over the age of 30.
Her stories feature men and women of diverse backgrounds.

My Hill to Die On

Were I to choose a hill to die upon, it would be something like this neolithic stone circle atop a green, grassy hill with a likely burial mound in the middle of it. 

However. If we're talking about copy edits. Well. I'm kind of a pain in the grass. 

Like Jeffe, I've had run ins with copy editors who've never met a metaphor they've liked. Most of the time, I can look at the suggested changes, raise my eye brows, snort and say, "You can fuck right off" to my inanimate computer screen at the same time I'm typing "Stet." 99.5% of the time, my copy editors save my backside - one caught an eye color change on a hero that both my editor and I had missed. So copy editors get big benefits of lots of doubts from me. And even if I disagree with copy edit, for most things, it just doesn't matter and I accept the change.

Where it does matter is when a copy editor harps on and on and on (usually about a metaphor, occasionally a genre trope) in a way that would change the voice of the story, the character, or me, then I get cranky. Really, really cranky. Cranky to the point that I once went to my editor and asked if I could never have that copy editor again. I felt like I was being childish or, worse, a diva. But she just laughed and said, "Absolutely. You aren't the first author to mention it. It won't be a problem going forward." That was a relief.

The only problem I have - and this is 100% a me thing - I'm stuck on subbing each other (3+ people) for one another (2 people). I just don't like the way one another sounds. I do like the way each other sounds. It's something I should probably get over. Probably. Mainly because I'm not sure it's really worth being on a hill for. Much less dying on that hill for.
 

Rules? Eeeh. Sometimes.

Perceval

It's not a week unless there's a new foster. This little dude is Perceval, a silver tabby boy. He's about 5 months old. He's at that stage where his body is bigger than his head. He looks like he was made up out of mismatching cat parts. His adult teeth are coming in, so at the moment, he has a double set of fangs as his baby teeth are still in place. He has yet to be neutered, so we'll be taking care of that soon. 

The other foster cat, Murphy, went to a perfect forever home on Thursday. 

Life is good. But hey! Folks in Florida and surrounding environs. Anyone looking for a sweet, handsome kitten?? Let me hook you up.

Rules.

Yeah, I guess I follow a few. I might even be pedantic about a some of them. Ask anyone who's asked me to critique a manuscript before. I can't claim that certain rules are dumb - they have their uses and their reasons for being. But you know, if the purpose of the written word is to communicate exquisitely - not perfectly, not always precisely - but to convey voice and tone and meaning all in one twist of phrase? Ah, then the rules cannot contain us. We're serving a higher master.

If you read through my post, you'll be able to guess which rule I most enjoy flouting. It's starting a sentence with a conjunction word. And. But. I annoy my editors with it, yet when a book gets published, a couple of them remain. To this day, I see one of my English teachers glowering at me over it. Thing is, in extremity, how many of us think in perfectly grammatical sentences? We don't. At least, *I* don't. Actually, I never do, but that's another rant. I like saving starting sentences with and or but for high frustration moments. It's a bit of character revelation. You know something about a character who rolls her eyes and thinks, "And that's me out of ammo. Fuck." You know something different about another character who shouts, "But you're wrong." at someone. Sure, in a draft I go overboard. Waaaay overboard. I try to dial it back in edits. But yeah. I'll argue that breaking the rules is all kinds of valid so long as it's being plied consciously to achieve a specific effect. Furthering characterization/character voice. Or to convey a specific image or emotion. So. If you want to break the rules, go for it. I'll stand by your decision to do so. 

(The observant among you will also note I have a thing for sentence fragments. It's true. Oh, look. It's Mrs. Briedenbach. Frowning at me again.)

Manifesto of a former grammarista

Folk who know me best also know I used to be a copy editor at a book publisher. I mean, for like a decade. And then I managed copy editors. And then I wrote style guides. That sort of work history will scar a girl, and even to this day, despite my best efforts at self-improvement, parts of my brain remain a bit proscriptive. If you could make Strunk & White's Elements of Style into a verb, that would be my brain ("Oh, don't mind me, I'm just over here StrunkNWhiting").

So, even though I'd never harp on these abominations to your face (we don't do this! we never do this!), here is what those brain-parts are screaming as I read your manuscript:

1. Dangling or misplaced modifiers help no one, ever. Unfortunately, I see a bunch of these, even in published books. Educate yourself on these things and avoid them. Please, please, please.

2. Yes, character names ending in S are fun (I love me a Rhys, an Alexis, a Lucius, maybe a...Salacious?). However! Be aware that there are two legit ways of making possessives of a singular noun ending in S: one way has you add an apostrophe+S, and with the other you add just the apostrophe. It's important that you know going in that whichever method you choose, half of your readers will be completely and totally convinced you're doing it wrong. So, just stick with boring non-ending-in-S names, yeah? Also, don't harangue people who are choosing the other method. They're okay, too.

3. There can be only one...space after a period. If you are putting two spaces, congratulations for passing typing in high school all those years ago. Also, welcome to variable-width fonts and the twenty-first century. (Aside: This is the topic at SFF Seven this week. We are seriously discussing whether there should be one space or two. I love this blog so much!)

4. I know you really want to use a semicolon, but restrain yourself. Don't do it. Even if you think you know how to use a semicolon, sadly, you're probably doing it wrong.

Oh, now that you've got me rolling, I can think of SO MANY peeves, things that just make me crazy: sentence fragments with no subjects and a whole buncha -ing phrases, homonym misuses, pronouns that refer to the wrong thing or nothing at all, word repeats, run-on sentences... yikes!PANIC!JUDGMENT!

*in through your nose, then out through pursed lips*

You know what, though? Don't mind me and my ridiculous, proscriptive (adj, StrunkNWhiteous?) brain. Tell your story. Tell the hell out of it. If you tell me a good enough story, I won't even pick nits.

"You're grammar sux" and other universal writing truths

Mostly these days, I novel and social media (and make up verbs). In the past I have short-storied,

fanficc’d, blogged, edited/rewritten, developed technical manuals, produced academic books and papers, and taken the occasional stab at corporate marketingspeak. I’ve worked in APA, AP, Chicago, MLA, Microsoft, and a bunch of house styles. Across all these different kinds of written communication, here’s some stuff I’ve learned:

• There are reasons everyone except AP-style aficionados are devoted to serial commas. (Sorry, journalism students, the serial comma really does make things clearer.)
• The ability to create a compelling novel does not translate into a similar talent for composing back-cover copy, aka “blurbs.” That is a totally different kind of writing, and most of us novelists have no clue what we’re doing in marketingland.
• An English degree does not confer magical ability to use a semicolon. Probably best you don’t.
•  People who don’t know what a dangling participle is aren’t stupid. Sometimes they’re the brightest minds in their field, and they deserve respect. (And possibly a gentle suggestion for fixing the dangle.)
• Technical styles often restrict sentences to 20 to 30 words max. Even for novelists, it isn’t a bad idea to count words in a sentence that seems long. If you catch one with more than 35 words, it’s probably confusing to readers, no matter what you’re writing.
• I thought I was good at telling a story through dialogue. Then I took a screenwriting class. Whoa. Just because you can do one does not mean you can necessarily do the other. (See item on back-cover copy above.)
• Microsoft Word and other grammar/spelling checkers do not fix usage errors. Or, to quote The Princess Bride: “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.” (Phenomenon also known as, Editors Are Our Friends.)
• If you write a thing and the reader understands the point you were trying to make and reacts in a way you wanted, you win. Full stop. End discussion. 

This list could go on forever, hyperbolically, but I’ll cut it off now. Any universal-to-all-media writing bits you’ve picked up and want to vent discuss?