What’s the deal with was? I was procrastinating from writing this blog post. I was texted by the ACT. Registration was finally open. All those sentences contain the word was. NOT all of those sentences use the passive voice. Twice in two days I saw otherwise knowledgeable people claim that the use of was (or to be in any form) ALWAYS indicates passive voice. It does not. I also saw in those same posts injunctions to delete all instances of the word was, completely rewriting sentences in most cases. These advisers claimed it was necessary to delete, with prejudice, all instances of was to improve your writing. It is not. Yes, sometimes was indicates the passive voice: The table was set (by zombies). (I was texted by the ACT.) Sometimes was is part of the progressive verb tense: I was petting the cat. (I was procrastinating from writing this blog post.) And sometimes was is simply the past tense of the verb to be: I was blonde when I was a child. (Registration was finally open.) When you’re editing your work, you’ll want to review all of these wases and decide on a case-by-case basis whether changing them will improve your writing. Passive voiceLet’s start with the passive voice. Grammatically, the passive voice is formed by using a form of to be + the past participle of the verb. (An oversimplification: the past participle is the “-ed” form of the verb.) The passive voice is used when you don’t know the subject of the sentence (the person or thing performing the action) or when you want to deliberately obfuscate the subject.* Don’t know: The bridge was built 1000 years ago. Obfuscation: The window was broken… One shortcut to determine whether a sentence uses the passive voice is to see if you can append a subject to the sentence and have it still make sense. The internet calls this the “by zombies” rule. The bridge was built 1000 years ago by ancient peoples. (Or zombies.) The window was broken by me. (Or zombies.) Another option is to see if you can flip the sentence around so that the subject appears before the verb: Ancient peoples built the bridge 1000 years ago. I broke the window. The passive voice can be tricky: I was texted by the ACT. looks like it could be an active sentence because of that pesky I, but I in this case is the object of the sentence (not the subject). Flipping the sentence helps show that this is a passive sentence: The ACT texted me. Editing passive voiceWhen you’re editing your fiction, it’s usually best to recast the passive voice to active. Readers have to read the entire sentence to figure out who is doing the action. Because of this delay, they can’t visualize the action. Also, too many sentences in the passive voice too close together make the writing repetitive and tedious. Review all your passive sentences. If the sentence has a clear, knowable subject, try flipping the sentence around. You’ll immediately add a sense of action and movement to your writing. Keep the passive voice when you are intentionally hiding the subject, or when you don’t know the subject, and it doesn’t matter to your story (the bridge builders example). * A note about gendered languageI’m seeing the passive voice used more and more often as a way around gendered language: A backpack was left behind. The passive voice is used in this case to avoid awkward constructions like his or hers, using the singular they, or picking a new pronoun (that isn’t commonly accepted. Even singular they isn’t always accepted, tho it’s gaining ground): A student left behind his or her backpack. A student left behind their backpack. A student left behind zir backpack. As much as possible, you should avoid using the passive voice as a way of avoiding figuring out gendered or gender-neutral language. If you’re in school, check with your writing center to see how they prefer to handle gender-neutral language. If you're working, check with your HR department. Otherwise, just do your best. Gender-neutral language is a bit of a moving target. Singular they appears to be the most common acceptable pronoun at the time of this writing. Progressive verb tenseThe (American) English language has a bunch of verb tenses that indicate when in time an action takes place. The progressive verb tense (also called the continuous tense) indicates: An action that happened over a period of time: I was reading. An action that was occurring when something else interrupted: I was reading when the cat jumped into my lap. An action that is occurring while another action is also occurring at the same time: The cat was drooling on me while I was reading. (Cat 1 is weird…) The progressive tense is formed by using to be + the present participle of the verb (verb+ing), which is why I often advise writers to avoid the “was ‘ing” construction. Why? It goes back to visualization and repetition again. Readers get to was before they get to reading or drooling. It’s hard to visualize was. And when writers overuse the progressive, all readers get to read is was. The progressive also tends to create a rhythm when you use it to show interrupting action, which also gets repetitive and boring: I was going to the store when it started to rain. It was raining so hard, I got soaked. I was dripping on the carpet when I finally got home. I think we writers overuse the progressive because it’s often the verb tense we use when telling stories to our friends and family. Or, at least, when I hear my son tell stories, it’s the progressive verb tense that gets the most play. I also see writers overuse progressive when they describe settings: The flag was standing in the corner. The vase was resting on the table. It was raining. Bonus: the progressive tense comes in all flavors: Present: It is raining. Present-perfect: It has been raining. Past: It was raining. Past-perfect: It had been raining. Future: It will be raining. Editing the progressive tenseJust like with the passive voice, I do recommend switching progressive tense to something else (simple past or present, typically, depending on what verb tense you use for the rest of the novel), especially with description: The flag was standing in the corner. The flag stood in the corner. The vase is resting on the table. The vase rests on the table. It was raining. It rained. I think it’s important to keep the progressive tense in the instance you are indicating one action interrupting another: I was writing a letter to you when the messenger arrived with new mail. Otherwise, you can often switch verb tenses with no loss of meaning. Switching improves the variety in your sentences and improves the readers’ ability to visualize your action. Sometimes was is just to be...Sometimes was is simply the past participle of the verb to be: I was blonde when I was a child. To be is a verb that shows a state of being. It is also called a linking verb: a verb that joins the subject and some condition of that subject: I was young. My sister was taller. Cat 1 is black. When using the verb to be, you are writing about a condition. There is no action in these sentences. Too many of these sentences too close together will be… wait for it… repetitive and tedious. Editing for stronger verbs than to beSometimes a simple statement of being is all you want, so read those wases carefully and decide whether you need that existential statement, or whether you can recast the sentence to something active: Cat 2 was afraid. Cat 2 feared the fireworks. My sister was taller. My sister grew taller than me when she was 10. If you find you truly need all those was sentences, consider rearranging passages to avoid repetition. When I'm doing the editingIn a developmental edit (or manuscript critique) I don’t make any changes to any of your wases, regardless of which was you are using. A dev edit is focused on a much bigger picture than your wases: like does your plot make sense? I do make a note in your editorial letter alerting you to how you may be overusing was, and providing examples as to how to fix it. (Or, in future, maybe you’ll get a link to this post!) In a line edit, I will offer suggestions to change passive voice to active voice, and progressive tense to simple past (or present, whatever your primary verb tense is). I will offer suggestions for how to rearrange sentences when the wases are necessary but repetitious. I don’t change ALL wases indiscriminately. As I read (carefully!), I make judgement calls for each instance. A proofread is a time to dot the is and cross the ts to get the manuscript ready for publication. By the time you’re doing a proofread, you are typically looking only for egregious errors. You absolutely want to ensure you don’t introduce NEW errors while trying to fix something that doesn’t necessarily need fixing. Using the passive voice and progressive verb tense are not errors; they are style choices. I am unlikely to change these in a proofread unless things start to feel really repetitive. Fixing passive voice involves flipping sentences and assuming the subject if it isn’t already written in to the sentence. I won’t fix passive voice in a proofread. Changing the progressive tense is often simple and doesn’t introduce any large changes (which can introduce errors). I’m likely to contact you to see if you want me to make those changes, but otherwise, I won’t make changes to the progressive tense either. And when was is simply to be? Again, that’s a style choice and not an error. I won’t make changes to those sentences either.
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I read...I read The Farwalker's Quest by Joni Sensel. It’s been on my list for a while; couldn’t tell you why anymore. I put books on The List anytime someone suggests it for any reason. (I used to lose The List but then I moved it to Amazon. And GoodReads.) In this instance, Joni (pronounced Johnny) herself bumped the book to the top of the list. We had a gap in our writing/critique group so we sent out a call to our local chapter of SCBWI (pronounced skib-wee; really. Ask Jon Scieszka (rhymes with Fresca)) to help us fill it. Joni asked to sit in on a meeting to see if we’re a good fit. (Critique groups can sometimes act as therapist/spouse/best friend so you want that relationship to be nurturing/kind/ass-kicking as appropriate. It’s good to visit a few different groups a few different times to see how they work before committing.) Anyway, I squee’d with joy and fear (writer’s self-esteem kicking in. How can we help a real live published author?!) then gave her our standard introduction and thought maybe I better go read her book! Just so you don’t think I’m gushing (tho I sort of am; I enjoyed this book considerably), I had not met Joni nor read any of her work before I started reading FARWALKER. And I learned...Worldbuilding. I harp on it because it is so very important (and because it’s one of my favorite things). When a reader cracks open a book, especially if they’ve pulled it from the Fantasy/Science Fiction shelf, they have no idea what they’ve opened up. There are the basic questions: who is the book about? Age, name, gender? Then there are the more complicated questions: what is this world like, how does it differ from our own, and how does it affect the main character? When I was a youngster working for $3.35 an hour (that was minimum wage in Missouri. You can do the research to find out just how old that makes me), I had two strict rules: 1) I would not pay more than a penny a page for a book. If the book cost $3.99 and was less than 350 pages, it was a no-go. 2) I would give every book 50 pages to suck me in and teach me about its world before I gave up on it. I read fantasy pretty exclusively back then, so it was like jumping into a whole new world every time I switched series. Given that 50 page rule, let me show you what Joni shows us of her world in her first few pages. Single-word worldbuildingWhen I critique or edit your writing, I often ask for adjectives to help set us in a certain time and place. In her first chapter, Joni uses a few well-placed adjectives to set up a preindustrial, possibly subsistence-living, village. “Their catch wiggled in the wood bucket…” [emphasis added] Wood buckets tell us this society does not have a supply of cheap metal. Wood is more plentiful and cheaper to shape than metal for these people. “Zeke watched his goat-leather boots…” Goat-leather boots tell us this group is on marginal land—not enough pasturage for raising cattle. Goats imply a rocky area. And given a child (Zeke is 12) is wearing leather, that implies the goats are relatively cheap/plentiful (as opposed to today where real leather goods tend to be expensive compared to synthetic counterparts). “Together they’d trapped classmates in the outhouse…” “lowered each other into the village well” Outhouse and well imply no indoor plumbing. (Classmates indicates some sort of formal schooling.) “Her mother had given up on insisting on skirts…Ariel wore mostly wool trousers and sweaters.” Skirts shows us girls are expected to dress differently than boys. That Ariel doesn’t shows us it’s not horrific if she goes against the culture. Wool trousers and sweaters can come from the already mentioned goats. Each piece of clothing can be handmade, which keeps in line with the preindustrial/subsistence theme. “beyond that were thatched and tiled roofs” Thatch for poorer homes; tile for the more well-off ones. Shows multiple classes within the society. Worldbuilding in a character's nameSometimes a name is just a name, but sometimes it tells us about a world’s culture. In Joni’s first chapter, we learn of Luna Healtouch, Ariel Healtouch, Fisher, Reaper, and Tree-Singer. We also learn a bit about how those names are given: “’But Namingfest is only three days away!’” “He couldn’t say he might fail.” “both of Zeke’s brothers had settled for more ordinary trades” “She would turn thirteen later that summer, so at Namingfest in a few days she could apprentice herself to a Fisher or Reaper. But the easiest course would simply be to learn from her mother [Luna Healtouch]” “Several [symbols] she recognized as the signs of a trade: the Windmaster’s, the Tree-Singer’s, and of course the xx that marked the home of a Healtouch With these phrases, we learn that a person’s last name is also their occupation, their trade. We learn that when children are about to turn 13, they are apprenticed in a particular trade and that is when they are given their last names. Through some of Zeke’s comments, we also learn there is some anxiety and uncertainty, and perhaps some kind of test, involved in choosing a trade. This all shows us the entire culture is involved in training up the next generation to work. Children are not given the opportunity to continue their broad education, nor do they seem to choose a craft for the sake of the craft itself (art or music). Children are apprenticed to something that will earn them a place in the village, and while they have some say in what they are apprenticed to, not all of them succeed in their first choice. Worldbuilding with magicSome fantasy has magic, some doesn’t. Which story are you reading? Unless it explicitly says on the blurb you happened to read, you won’t know until the author shows it to you. Joni sets up magic in the very first sentence and runs from there. “Zeke’s tree wouldn’t speak to him.” “A Tree-Singer could be the most important person in the village. Hearing the voices of trees and coaxing them to share their great wisdom took special talent” “Unlike tree-singing and the more mystical trades, most of the healing skills could be taught.” “She’d envied his talent [Zeke’s ability to talk with trees], since she seemed to have none of her own.” “In fact, Ariel had the strangest sense that the tree wanted to be climbed.” “’I thought telling darts were supposed to find the people they were sent to, [Ariel says]’” “Before her eyes, the tree reached to catch him” From all these bits and pieces, we learn that there is a kind of magic in this world and that some of it relates to talking to trees (and hearing what they have to say back). We learn that magic may be an inherited trait (it cannot be taught). That the darts (inanimate objects) are supposed to find a particular person also smacks of magic. Adding depth to your world with historyAnd finally, let’s talk about history. Unless your world is new-minted (like Narnia in The Magician’s Nephew) it will have a history. (Altho, come to think of it, even new-minted Narnia has a history.) That history can give your world a richer feel, less made up/more real, or it can provide conflict for your current characters (those who don’t learn their own history will continue to step in it…). In the first chapter, Joni already starts laying in her world’s history. “Maybe Zeke’s tree, grateful, would share an old secret, like where to find gemstones or the legendary treasures locked away in the Vault.” “Ariel had never seen a telling dart, but she had heard plenty of stories.” “’I didn’t think you could still find stuff like this anymore,’ she [Ariel] said. Darts that could talk were only one of the marvels lost after the Blind War and now known only in legend.” Already we learn of some type of major historical event that changed this world and that something from before that event has come to affect Ariel and Zeke. Conflict set up through worldbuilding. TL;DRThis worldbuilding stuff is really important. It fixes the reader in a particular world: time, place, and technology/science/magic level. It provides interest in your story, like frosting on a cake, making the story-cake that much more interesting/tasty. (My metaphor is only kind of working here.) Good worldbuilding can provide the conflict for your story. Once you've taken the time to develop two wildly different cultures, it can be easy to see how they'd disagree and how they'd handle those disagreements. And, finally, worldbuilding can help create your story. I once took an online class with Holly Lisle who created a three-book fantasy series after drawing a map and creating the world that created the map. Worldbuilding in a very literal way. Read 1000 booksReading widely changes your writing. For the better. Many published writers credit their success to having read voraciously, both in and out of their chosen genres. But most people don't read like editors; they read for enjoyment, not to learn a new writing technique. I read for a zillion reasons, and one IS to learn writing and story-telling techniques. Occasionally, I'll write about what I learn and share it with you here. Read 1000 books. Then write one. A little backgroundI first wrote this piece approximately a thousand years ago (or nine. Nine years ago) and posted it to my blog, but that blog has since disappeared into the ether. So, here it is again.
I read...A few years ago [a lot more than a few years ago now] I got the chance to meet agent Nathan Bransford at a local SCBWI conference. He critiqued the first five pages of my first novel. The two pieces of feedback he gave me? “A lot of novels start this way.” (One character upstairs, another downstairs, calling to each other.) And, “You don’t have a unique voice.” Ouch. I thanked him and left. My 15 minutes were up. I spent the second half of the day mooning about and then—if you’ll excuse the decidedly non-feminine expression—manned up and marched over to where Nathan was waiting all by himself and asked if he could recommend any books I should read that had a good strong voice. He did. Ball Don’t Lie was one of them. And I learned...Ta da! Voice! Voice is the magic of a book. No voice and you’re likely to get a form rejection. Every agent and editor (and reader!) is looking for “fresh new voices.” Trouble is, voice is also nebulous, hard to describe, harder to teach, but oh-so-obvious when you read it. Voice is a concatenation of writerly skills, techniques, and just plain individual style. Voice is limitless. Voice is not simply point of view, tho I have heard some authors call it that. Point of view is fairly limited: 1st person, 2nd person, 3rd person; limited or omniscient. POV is a part of voice, but not the whole of voice. de la Pena uses an external first-person narrator to tell an omniscient third-person story about Sticky, the main character: I could tell you a lot about this game… (says the narrator) Oh, that name, the lady said in a voice so Sticky couldn’t hear. She moved under the game room door frame. We’ll have to do something about that awful name. Voice includes using slang or swear words, whatever words your characters may use. In the right novel, voice can include dusting off your SAT vocabulary and busting out with words like septuagenarian or apotheosis. de la Pena uses street slang to describe street basketball: It’s tied sevens and Sticky’s handling the rock up top. Back and forth with the left hand. In front of his glazed body. Rhythm pats. Type of dribbles that get you in the groove to cut and slash, body loose and quick to make somebody look like a fool. The ball is also called a “brick.” The hoop a “bucket.” Men are called “cats” and “fellas” and “guys.” Girlfriends are called “old ladies.” Voice includes how you write description: as solid blocks of fragmentary sentences or long, flowing, lyrical sentences. de la Pena does things a little differently by using a colon to set off phrases of description: Jimmy is: eyes the size of golf balls in thick Coke-bottle glasses, overgrown crop that starts a thumb’s width from his bushy eyebrows, old beat-up flea-bitten sweatshirt zipped up to the throat: ARMY FOOTBALL. Voice can include repeating phrases over and over to indicate a character’s personality: Sticky shook her off. Pulled out one pair [of pants], checked tangs twice (price and size) and then stuck them back on the rack. When the sticking-back sound didn’t sound right, he pulled them off and stuck them back again. Pulled them off and stuck them back. He started to panic inside. Started sweating. Last thing he wanted to do in front of this pretty girl was act all retarded. But he couldn’t stop himself. He pulled them off and stuck them back again. (Note the use of the word retarded in that quote. Many people won't use it, so its use here is part of voice and part of character development.) Voice can include formatting, like using italics for dialog: Oh, damn, that was a nasty foul, Dave said, holding a fist to his mouth. Jay had to slap em down, though, Sticky said. He had to let em know whose lane it was. Fat Jay did just like this, Sin said, and he put his arm out clothesline style and swung it through the air. That’s the kinda foul that could set the tone. Like Sticky said. After Fat Jay did that, wasn’t no little number twenty-three flyin through the lane no more, right? Voice is all of these things. And a little bit more. Voice combines to create a story that could only be about Sticky, only be written by Matt de la Pena. You could pick this book up and read a few lines and know it wasn’t written by Suzanne Collins or Meg Cabot or even Chris Crutcher, another YA-boys-sports-issues book writer. TL;DRVoice is a unique blending of all these tools: POV, verb tense, word choice (which includes formal vs slang, in addition to individual words), metaphors, how you handle description, even formatting. It happens through writing over and over and over again. Every day. Pruning out that which doesn’t fit, allowing to grow that which does. Voice is developed over time and with much practice of the basic skills in a writer’s toolbox. Voice truly is more than the sum of its parts. Read 1000 booksReading widely changes your writing. For the better. Many published writers credit their success to having read voraciously, both in and out of their chosen genres. But most people don't read like editors; they read for enjoyment, not to learn a new writing technique. I read for a zillion reasons, and one IS to learn writing and story-telling techniques. Occasionally, I'll write about what I learn and share it with you here. Read 1000 books. Then write one. A little backgroundI first wrote this piece approximately a thousand years ago (or nine. Nine years ago) and posted it to my blog, but that blog has since disappeared into the ether. So, here it is again. Related articles |
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