Listen to this blog post:
I love the sound of words, of a masterfully crafted sentence, of a paragraph that hides behind the image it invokes. If I’m honest, I love the language aspect of writing as much as the creative aspect. There is a musicality to well-crafted writing that speaks to me. But that musicality is not about sophisticated vocabulary (although I love words, and the thesaurus is a very dear friend of mine. I use this one when I want to play with my words: OneLook Thesaurus and Reverse Dictionary.) The musicality of language is tied to how that language sounds when spoken (either in your head or out loud.) Take this sentence, for instance:
“One after another the ships breasted the waves at the bar, rising and plunging, one after another they came straight on.” Ursula K. Le Guin, Lavinia
There are no 25-cent words in this sentence, although the verb “breasted” may not be that common. (As an aside, I think verbs are the heart of great writing. If you want to play with verbs, use a reverse dictionary and browse words grouped under the “Action” category.) The musicality of this sentence is tied to how it sounds when you read it. The pacing and sound of this sentence mimic the rising and plunging of the waves “one after another.”
Writer and teacher Tim Weed offers several classes through Grubb Street titled Sentence-Level Music that are definitely worth taking (the example above comes from his Sentence-Level Music II class.) But I digress.
So, the question is: how do we craft that masterful sentence?
But before we answer that, perhaps we should discuss when we should craft it. Ursula Le Guin is a master, and maybe she woke up one morning, sat at her writing desk and conjured that sentence from the tip of her pen, fully formed and perfect. But I doubt it. In all likelihood, she sat down and started writing and didn’t pay much attention to that sentence at all her first time through. In fact, that sentence may not have even existed her first time through or her tenth time around. We’ll never know.
But the point is, if you try to play with language as you create it, you will likely obstruct your creativity before you’ve even started. (Full transparency here folks… following my own advice here is difficult for me, and I regularly have to remind myself not to edit as I generate new material… in fact, it is nearly a daily mantra: “Don’t edit, just write… don’t edit, just write.” Writer and teacher Sarah Selecky has a wonderful post about this: Be open, and let yourself love this. - Sarah Selecky Writing School)
So… when do we play with language? AFTER we’ve written our messy, sloppy, sh!@$tty first drafts and maybe not even until we’ve written our tenth draft (everyone is a little different). When you feel like you’ve wrestled, coaxed or enticed your story onto the page… that is the time to start to play!
Now, back to: How do we craft that masterful sentence?
Well, according to Ursula Le Guin (Steering the Craft, p.1):
“The sound of language is where it all begins. The test of a sentence is, Does it sound right? The basic elements of language are physical: the noise words make, the sounds and silences that make the rhythms marking their relationships.”
Are you ready to play with words? Ok…
Let’s start with the foundation of a good sentence. You can google this, and you will find various answers, but at its core, a good sentence has the following qualities: economy, specificity and musicality.
Economy: This isn’t about sentence length. A long sentence can be just as clear and “economical” as a short sentence. This is about word choice. Make your words do the heavy lifting.
My advice: when considering sentence economy, consider your verb choices first. Le Guin could have written ships moved forward against the waves, but instead, she used the word breasted. She not only replaced three words with one but also heightened the tension with a powerful verb and changed the rhythm of the sentence.
So, let’s look at verbs first. Try this exercise:
Writing Exercise:
Take a paragraph from something you have already written. Separate your sentences and line them up, with each starting on a new line. Now, underline the verbs in each sentence.
Now it’s time to play…Go on a word hunt! Remember that reverse dictionary I told you about earlier? Type those verbs into the search bar and see what pops up. Read the choices out loud. Think about the connotations of the words as you try them out. The verb wheedle has a different sense than sweet-talk, and both words have similar meaning to cajole.
Remember, not all verbs have to be fancy. There is nothing wrong with is or was or move or walk. Those may be just the right words for your sentence. I can usually tell if a verb should be replaced by how many adjacent words it needs to get my point across.
Example 1:
Each year the swallows fly back to San Juan Capistrano.
The sentence is straight forward, but can it be economized? How about:
Each year the swallows return to San Juan Capistrano.
The verb return isn’t fancier than fly. Still, it replaced two words in this sentence (because the word back is implied in the verb to return) and allowed me to drop “to San Juan Capistrano,” depending on how vital that clarification is in my paragraph.
Example 2:
She ran home after school.
I could write sprinted, ambled, scampered, high-tailed it… BUT they may not be better than the word ran in this instance.
Remember to have fun with it. Make changes and read them out loud. The more comfortable you are with verbs, the easier it will be to write great sentences.
We will look at over-used words in the next instalment of Playing with Words.
Happy Writing!