Literary Tics

After finishing the first draft of my novel several months ago, and excited about the accomplishment, I soon began editing the second draft.  After the first few pages, I recognized patterns in my writing that I termed "literary tics". The tics were repetitive use of words with which I felt comfortable and which I thought conveyed the scene I saw in my mind as I was writing.  In fact, they did convey the scene; however, in that first draft, I had not considered the impact of repetition of those words on the reader.  Examples of the words are as, just, down, and up. Use of these words is not a tic, of course, but the overuse of them is.

I used the word, as, repeatedly when other words such as when or while would have applied equally well. Again, there is nothing inherently wrong with the word, as, only in the frequency with which I used it.  The phrase, "As I looked at Momma ...", can be replaced with, "When I looked at Momma ...", with little, if any, change in the connotation.  Of course, the risk then becomes overusing the word, when, a possibility that is easily addressed with balanced use of all words at the writer's disposal.

Likewise, I used the word, just, many times when it was just not needed (like that). For example, in the phrases, "He was just sitting there or "She just didn't know the stranger," the word doesn't add anything of substance to the statements. However, in some cases in narrative and, especially, in dialogue, the word carries a different connotation and is warranted. For instance, there is a difference between, "Carol, I don't know" and "Carol, I just don't know" in dialogue, the first imparting fact, the second perhaps frustration.

Another literary tic of which I was guilty is the use of up and down. For instance, when the setting is described as a woman standing and her son sitting to her side, there is no reason to write, "He turned and looked up at her." The word, up, is not needed and the same is true for the word, down, in similar situations.

I am sure that experienced writers are not afflicted with literary tics to the extent that beginning writers are, although they may have been as beginners. The goal, of course, is to identify and prevent them, thereby making writing more efficient and effective.  The good news is that repetition of words is easy to highlight with modern word processors.  They can be reviewed and changed during the edit. 

Other literary tics may include routinely, but inadvertently, changing POV; verb tense mismatches; and habitual use of non-standard punctuation.  In any case, taking care of these "literary tics" allowed me to also review surrounding material while editing.  In addition, getting the literary garbage out of the way allows me to concentrate on style, POV, show-not-tell considerations, etc.  It is rather like cleaning the dust and dirt off a vintage car to determine the work needed to restore it to a polished finish.

The Maple and Miss Red

I sat down slowly in the porch several mornings ago with my first cup of coffee and soon heard a familiar tat-tat-tat outside.  Not far from the porch was a female red-bellied woodpecker drilling into a heavy, dead branch on a dying maple.

As she relentlessly struck the limb in beats of three, slivers and shavings of wood floated to the ground, fifteen feet below.  I wondered how long she could strike her head against the wood, presumably without her first cup of coffee.

Sluggishly, I began to realize that Miss Red's struggle to survive was a fitting metaphor for the writing process.  Compelled by instinct beyond my ken, she was certain that a tasty bug was escaping the overnight cold within relative warmth inside the decomposing flesh of the dead branch.  She was determined to reach the morsel in the same way that we sense a good story within an inspiration and strive to reveal it.  Much the same as she repeated her tat-tat-tat on the wood, writers tap-tap-tap on a keyboard, trying to uncover the story within.

Miss Red was mulish in her labor, much as a writer must be tenacious to coax a story from words.  Without her drive she will starve, certainly with the specter of winter literally on the horizon.  In some cases, litterateurs face the same future although it can be worse – the unfulfilled need for self-expression.  Of course, even as there may be no reward for the woodpecker's work, the same may be true for the writer.  But, any woodpecker or scribe worth their salt wouldn't let that stop them.

As she worked, Miss Red was unconcerned about the debris that fell to earth.  They were bits of wood, obstacles in her way much as many words are in the way of writers, words that must be cast aside during editing to reveal the meat of the story. 

If her concentration was interrupted by someone slurping coffee or my wife's footsteps, the bird stopped momentarily, but always returned to her work.  In the same way, we may find our efforts interrupted by the cry of a baby, an important phone call, or the call of nature.  The dedicated will return to the task at hand as quickly as possible and continue chipping away at the wordy wood.

In fact, the hundred-plus-year-old maple itself is a metaphor for the art of letters.  The farthest reaches of its root system represent the beginnings with The Epic of Gilgamesh, if not stories told in pictographs on cave walls.  The trunk, main branches, water sprouts, and limbs represent the styles of fiction and nonfiction through millennia of human history, snaking off in different directions as the human imagination strives to explore all forms of written expression.  Even its leaves, returning each year in similar but different arrangements and colors, symbolize the literature styles of the day.

As I saw her struggle to survive as a metaphor for writing, I wondered if Miss Red sees writing as a metaphor for her struggle to survive.  I think we both shall miss that maple.