BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Being on a book tour is hard work.

On the outside, looking in, it probably doesn’t seem that way to most folks. But, trust me, it is. Take, for instance, this most recent tour.

Each day, Morrison and I would get up at the buttcrack of dawn. As in 4AM or even a bit earlier. Sometimes a bit later, but not by much. This would immediately be followed by us complaining about how we were too old for this crap. Instead of giving up and going back to sleep, however, we would take our turns getting a shower, then stuff all of our “possibles” (as Morrison calls them,) into our respective suitcases, and then spend a few minutes disassembling and reassembling the 3 dimensional puzzle that was the trunk and back seat of the rental car. Once we had jumped up and down on the trunk lid a few times, finally getting it to latch, we would hop into the vehicle and hit the road. Our first stop would usually be the office of the motel for a cup of coffee and a stale donut. If no such comestibles were available to us, we would find a Dunkin Donuts, local diner, or even a stop ‘n shop where we could grab the aforementioned caffeine and carb fix.

Then, Jane, AKA “the bitch in the box” would bark her orders at us as we navigated the streets of unfamiliar cities, eventually making our way to an unfamiliar highway, then striking out on the next leg of our journey. The drive could be 4 hours, or it could be 7. It all hinged on where we were expected to be next (as outlined in the sacred blue folder, which lived for 15 days tucked behind the sun visor on the passenger side of the car…) Sometimes we had to be in one place by 11AM, only to turn around and be in another place by 6PM. Somewhere in that mess we also needed to check in to our motel, freshen up our road weary faces, and do what it is that one does when your job is signing books and entertaining workshop attendees.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. Both of us truly enjoy going on book tours and meeting folks. I’m simply pointing out that this is NOT the glamorous life you see depicted in movies. It’s work. It’s tough work. And, it involves long, long days and nights. Typically, our work day is 14 to 16 hours.

You will notice in the above diatribe that nothing is mentioned about lunch. Just the stale donut and coffee at 5AM or thereabouts. Why no lunch? Because, when your schedule is that tight, and you are zipping across entire states going from bookstore to bookstore, lunch isn’t always an option. That stale donut/bagel and weak coffee is your primary sustenance for the day.

By the time you get finished with the appearances for that calendar date, it is almost certainly close to being the next day. As in, 11PM or after. You climb back into the car and head for the motel…or to the home of a friend where you are going to crash…and set out again. Sometimes the friend or motel is close. Sometimes it’s two hours down the road so that you are just that much closer to your next gig. It’s just the way of things. When you get where you are going, you suddenly realize that the donut and coffee are fully digested, every single nutrient that could be gleaned from them has been and has been used to its full potential…It also dawns on you that your adrenal gland, which has been keeping you upright for the past 8 hours is now tapped out. So, before you climb into bed to get your 3 to 4 hours of sleep, you roll into a diner and get a hamburger…or a cheese sandwich…or you even drop by the Quick E Mart and toss down one of those not so appetizing, pre-made, pre-packaged chicken salad sandwiches. (Well, I ate a sandwich, Morrison had M&M’s. I think she was looking for comfort food that night, and the Quick E Mart didn’t have a steak.) Anyway, the point is that you dump some kind of fuel into your system so that you can keep going.

So, what does this have to do with Pizza? Glad you asked.

After one of our gigs…I think it was in Rehoboth, MA, but don’t quote me, because I really did lose track of where and when I was (this is not unusual)…we had a one and a half hour drive to get to our crash point. We were staying with some friends who happen to live in Salem, MA. Since we had never been to their place before we had some directions with landmarks. A few minutes outside Salem, Morrison mentioned to me that one of the landmarks was the fact that their apartment building had a pizza joint on the ground floor.

Neither of us had eaten a thing since that morning. The magical word PIZZA had been uttered. We both looked at one another and said, “Pizza!” Our stomachs began to growl. Our mouths began to water. And, we said PIZZA! yet again. The monster was out of the proverbial closet.

We arrived at our destination, and with the help of our friends Kim and Alec, carted our luggage up to their spacious and exceptionally cool apartment. Kim called downstairs to order us a Pizza, primarily because we crawled out of the car and didn’t even say hello. We just kept saying, PIZZA and sighing wistfully. Fortunately, Kim and Alec are very bright and on the ball, which meant they were both able to quickly decipher the inane ramblings of two wiped out authors on tour.

The Pizza place was getting close to closing time so they told her they were only serving slices, and not making whole pizzas. Alarms went off. Eyes watered. Emotional breakdowns were on the verge of ensuing. Pizza was what we needed. Pizza was the only thing that would sustain us at this point. Without pizza we would wither and die. So, we all marched downstairs right into the pizza place. If nothing else, we were going to get a slice.

That was when Morrison gained a momentary spark of lucidity and genius. She looked at the girl behind the counter and said, “Are any of those pizzas back there whole?” The girl said, “Why yes, we do have a whole cheese pizza.” Morrison waved money at her and said, “Give it to me.” Note, she did not say “please, may we have that one,” or “would you be willing to sell us the whole pizza.” No, she said “Give it to me.” Obviously, since she was waving money she didn’t mean that the girl should literally “give it to her,” but it was obvious to everyone in the place that Morrison wasn’t leaving without that pizza.

I was reaching for my wallet. At that point we were both willing to toss all of the green we had onto the counter in order to obtain the sacred pizza. Fortunately, they were scrupulous folks and didn’t take advantage of us in our deteriorated states. We got the pizza, went back upstairs then stood in Kim and Alec’s kitchen, a slice in one hand, and a nice, cold, hard cider in the other. And we ate.

And we ate…

And we ate…

All in all, I can guarantee you that the pizza was pretty much average as pizzas go.

But, that night…Well, let’s just say on that particular night, it was the best damn pizza either of us had ever eaten in our lives.

More to come…

Murv

PS. In a day or two I’ll tell you about round two…New York style pizza (actually, they call it “pie”) purchased in New Jersey…

Of course, you know me…Don’t I always?

So, anyway, pull up a chair, because this is going to take a couple of minutes.

My issue is with the self-appointed style police. Now, when I say style police I’m not talking about the folks who give grief over what you happen to be wearing that day. Although, given that I just returned home from doing my morning running about in public (post office and the like), and I was wearing a pair of denim shorts, a black t-shirt, and a pair of brown, generic “Crocs,” I suppose they would be up in arms too. (Let me tell you, those Crocs the most comfortable shoes I’ve ever owned, so don’t be surprised if you see me wearing them at a book signing or a festival when I am going to be on my feet all day.)

Nope. I’m talking about the Literary Style Police… And, remember, I said self-appointed, because believe you me, I never once saw them on any ballot I’ve cast in my lifetime.

So, what has triggered this for me? Well, not what you might expect. You see, I received a friend request from another writer yesterday. So, what did I do? I went and checked out her site, just like I do whenever anyone else sends me a friend request, or before I send one to someone.

I bet you thought I was just saying that on my main page, didn’t you? Nope. No joke. I really do go check people out before I approve the request, or be so bold as to send one.

But, anyway, I approved her request and then took a moment to read some of her blog. One of the entries was of particular interest. It was a list of words (tags) you should NEVER use when writing dialogue, because as everyone knows you should only use the word “said.”

Now…this writer noted that she was being somewhat facetious about this list, and I have no doubt that she was. In fact, to her credit, she does point out that she doesn’t completely agree with the list with the exception that it is a good rule of thumb to follow if you haven’t yet honed your craft and learned not to overuse the tags. I actually agree with her on that point, and I also applaud her effort at educating new writers. However, I would also caution that the tag “said” not be overused either. It is nowhere near as invisible, or unobtrosive as the style police would have you believe. In fact, it is downright clumsy and halting. Not only does it make for very dry, boring, dialogue, it often provides a bigger stumbling block than some of the words on “the list” simply because it doesn’t agree with the punctuation in the dialogue.

In addition, once written dialogue is flowing properly, tags need only be inserted here and there. Not on every line of speech. And then, they should be inserted to enhance, not to merely “point out that s/he SAID something.” The only other reason would be for the purpose of identifying the speaker, but again, if you have properly established the flow, the reader will already know who is speaking without it.

However, let me add that this is MY opinion on writing. We will get into why I just “said” that in a moment.

What interested me most about her blog entry was that some of the comments (not all, but some) she received about her blog came from writers/editors who wholeheartedly agreed with this no-no list. I secretly suspect they are a part of that bizarre little group of staunch supporters who cling for dear life to that rule about using only the dialogue tag “said”, and no other, as if it were a life preserver. I’ve had occasion to meet a few of these people, and while they may not ALL be this way, the handful I have experienced are no less than zealots. They love to cite rules about what they call “saidisms.” No, I did NOT say sadism, I said “saidisms.” The word said with an ism added to the end for maximum effect. One of my favorite things to ask these people is that since they are so caught up in following their so called “rules,” then why are they breaking them by making up a word? You see, the word “saidism” doesn’t exist. They made it up in order to sound like they were some sort of expert. So, when greeted by that word being thrown in my face, rather than “say” what I said above, I grunt it with amusement.

But, I don’t want to sound like an ass here. I do have to cut them some slack. Some of these folks are highly educated–some of them impressively so. I just think they have made the mistake of hitching their carts to a big, steaming bucket of stagnant thinking.

Time for some anecdotal fun…

I once had an editor insist that I replace every dialogue tag in one of my manuscripts with the word “said.” All of them. Even when someone asked a question and the line would read something on the order of:

“Where did you put the screaming howler monkeys?” he asked.

Apparently, according to “the rules” I wasn’t supposed to say, “he asked.” I was supposed to say, “he said.” But, he didn’t just say it. He asked it.

Said, the past participle of say, means to state, utter, speak, etc.

Asked means to put a question to, or make an inquiry.

Since the character in this instance actually “put a question to” another character, rather than simply make a statement, doesn’t putting “said” there seem a little odd to you? It does to me.

So, I had to ask. And, when I asked (or should that be said?) “why”, I was told that it was the rule.

Well, you know me, always stirring the pot…I wanted to know who made that rule. The response I got was that Elmore Leonard made the rule. Indeed, Mr. Leonard did say this. In fact, he has a list of 10 rules about writing and that is #3 on his hit list. #4, by the way, is to never use adverbs to modify the verb said. Poor adverbs. I don’t know what they ever did to him but it must have been bad. I feel sorry for “said” too, because Mr. Leonard has now forbidden it from playing with its good friends the adverbs. It’s a regular Romeo and Juilet looking for a place to happen…

So, I have another question, (I said.) Who died and appointed Elmore Leonard God Almighty of the writing community, thereby giving him the authority to lay down rules that I am somehow bound to follow?

The editor got mad at me and proceeded to call me names. Yes. Really. Apparently Elmore Leonard is some sort of personal deity to her and I had just committed the grave sin of blasphemy by questioning his Godhood. How the hell was I suppose to know?

Now, before you get your panties up your crack, I’m not aiming that comment at Mr. Leonard himself, and I am not trying to be vicious about it. What I am saying is very simply this: the man gave some advice based on how he does things and how he views his job as an author. That’s wonderful. More power to him. I’m all about advice and that sort of thing. Hell, I’ve even given out a bit of it myself. However, just because Elmore Leonard said “this is the way it must be done” this suddenly means that anyone who does it differently is wrong? I don’t know about you, but that seems just a little ridiculous to me. (BTW, rule #6 on Mr. Leonard’s list is never use the word “suddenly”… Looks to me that simply by writing this blog I am damning myself to author hell…Oh well, as long as they have beer I’m all good.)

I had yet another question (I said) Just like me, isn’t it? All these questions? I must have driven my parents nuts… Anyway, for sake of argument I will pose this question to you here now (I said)…If we aren’t supposed to use all of these words we have accumulated in the English language over the years, then exactly why do we have them? If said is the same as asked, replied, acknowledged, grunted, spewed, or any other verb, then why don’t we just get rid of all those other words and save some space in the dictionary? Obviously we don’t need them, correct? It would save paper, thereby saving trees and reducing pollution. Everybody wins. And, maybe then the style police could even go ahead and petition to have saidism added because there would now be room for it…Of course, if we got rid of all of the so-called saidisms there wouldn’t really be a need for the word saidism then, would there? (I said). Of course, that would mean we wouldn’t have a need for style police either…

Nahhhh. They’d find something else to complain about. On the heels of their victory they would probably start some sort of movement to change all nouns to pronouns, because he and she are far less intrusive than a character’s actual name when reading text…I can see it now…I’ll need to change all of the current titles in my series. Harm None: A He Investigation…Never Burn A Witch: A He Investigation…

Silly, yes. But, in my opinion, it really isn’t any more silly than telling me I can’t use any dialogue tag other than said. If writers are supposed to use the language to convey thoughts and emotions then why in the world would you restrict the language they are allowed to use? I don’t know about you, but to me that makes about as much sense as repeatedly hitting yourself on the thumb with a ball peen hammer. (Of course, if you are into that sort of thing, more power to you. But, I don’t wanna hear about it…)

Okay, so let’s think about this for a minute…And, while you are thinking, I will jump in my “wayback machine,” set it for 1903, then go back and tell the Wright brothers that they can’t fly. Wait…I think they got told that by other people didn’t they? But, they did it anyway. Hmmmm…Funny how that works. I get told I can’t use a dialogue tag other than said, but I ignore that “rule” (as do countless other writers), and yet we still have loyal fans and readers.

Hmmmm….guess all of our fans and readers are big nasty rule breakers too, eh?

I’m sure by now you are saying to yourself, “Holy crap! Murv must have had someone complain about him using a saidism.” Well, if that is what you are saying to yourself, you would be correct. However, it hasn’t happened recently. Not for quite some time actually. But, I am sure I will get more. The hate mail tends to come in waves. Now that I’m writing this blog, I’ll probably get several in the immediate future. Oh well… The style police are always on the prowl, it gives them something to do…

However, to validate what you are mumbling (I’m sorry, saying) to yourself, yes, throughout the years I have received a dozen or so scathing mails/emails from anti-fans telling me that I am a hack because I don’t follow “the rules.” My favorite vilification came from a particular lady who went on about how even a first time “fanfic” writer knew better than to break the rules I have broken throughout my novels. Actually, that “argument” has been tossed at me two or three times. I personally think it is funny. However, what made her particular letter my personal favorite was the fact that she was so caught up in chastising me for having the unmitigated gall to use a dialogue tag other than “said” that she neglected to proof her own work which was filled with misspellings, misused words, and several grammar issues.

I was amused. A couple of typos I can understand. I’m good for those myself. But, these weren’t typos. Trust me.

Now, back to Mr. Leonard. No offense intended, but I must be honest– I don’t much care for his writing, but that’s just my opinion. It doesn’t make his writing bad…or, dare I say “wrong.” Although, several of the things HE does break MY 10 rules…But, so what. That isn’t the point. Those are MY rules, just like his rules are HIS rules. The basic fact is, I just don’t particularly like his style.

And, yes. There it is again. That word…Style.

How we write is a matter of style. In fact, many authors submit their manuscripts along with something called a “style sheet”…For those of you who may not know what that is, a “style sheet” is something that shows your editor how YOU do things. i.e. which rules you plan to break, and why. For instance, non-standard capitalization, intentional grammatical anomalies, non-standard spellings, and so on….

So, that covers the specifics. But what about the basics? The basic style elements get dictated by who? The editors in the industry? Other writers? English teachers? Society? Actually, all of the above. But, guess what? (I said) Unlike the speed of light these “rules” are not a universal constant. They change. Constantly. So, I guess in a way they are constant…by that I mean constantly changing, not constantly remaining constant. Make sense? Yeah, I know. Just read it again slowly.

Anyway, If you don’t believe me, then here is an example. If you are my age, or anywhere near, then you remember that when we were in school we were taught that it was an absolute taboo to end a sentence with a preposition. Guess what?The rule changed. It’s okay to do that now. Really. I’m not kidding. Go ahead and end a sentence with the word “for” if you are so inclined. It is now grammatically correct, no matter what Mr. Golden or Ms. Ackman taught me all those years ago.

So, why do rules change? Because they become antiquated and no longer work for a given situation or era. And, here’s a news flash. Rules dictating writing style are in an even greater state of flux, because while you have all of the folks listed above dictating the elements of style, each of us dictate our own as well. — Remember the style sheet? And, a breaking news update to go with the one above: Style rules can be broken without anyone getting hurt or going to jail. I know…sounds crazy doesn’t it? (I said) But let me clue you in on a little secret. The style police actually have no authority. Really. They can’t even write tickets. No. I’m not kidding. All they can do is play with their sirens (by that I mean, whine and complain.)

So, what is the deal with all of these “rules” then? To paraphrase the popular movie pirates–They are more like a set of suggested guidelines.

So, there you have it. Just like I’m not going to let someone else dictate which shoes I wear when I go to the post office (except my wife, and well, you know how that is…) I’m not going to let anyone else dictate my writing style.

You shouldn’t either.

Okay…Now I am off to write some stuff and use all of the wrong words while doing it. Wish me luck.

MR

PS. Oh, and there are probably some typos in this…so sue me. 😉