Advice and Dissent from James W. Ziskin

Tell us, the best edit or manuscript advice you received, and the worst?  

I have a tradition of posting my New Year’s resolutions poem every January. You’ll find it below, following my answer (rant) to this week’s question. Happy New Year!

For this week’s question, I’m going to limit myself to my least favorite bit of writing advice and make some enemies in the process. I strongly disagree with the conventional wisdom that it’s “bad” style to use any dialogue tag other than “said.”

Such advice reminds me of Newspeak. It handcuffs us. Reduces our choices. Makes our language poorer. Deprives us of so many words. Perfectly good words. Words that carry nuance and imply a more precise meaning than the humble “said.” Aren’t we encouraged to use strong verbs instead of weak ones in our writing? Why shouldn’t that advice apply to dialogue attribution as well? No one tells us to use one verb to describe, say, eating, do they? “The man ate the chicken” certainly doesn’t convey the same meaning as “The man devoured/wolfed down/nibbled on the chicken.” By the same token, “said” can’t communicate the precision of yelled, shouted, screamed, bellowed, mumbled, grumbled, whined, and so on.

To me, this particular bit of advice feels random, and I believe it could very well be subject to changing tastes. Norms go in and out of style. Today’s rules will be tomorrow’s fodder for ridicule. It was once acceptable, after all, for writers to use “ejaculate” and other verbs as a dialogue tags.

We have dozens of powerful, descriptive verbs to characterize speech, so why not use them occasionally when appropriate? Here are some examples.

“I love you,” she said ≠ “I love you,” she whispered.

“My leg,” he said  ≠ “My leg,” he moaned.

“But I don’t want to,” she said  ≠  “But I don’t want to,” she whined.

“Good morning,” she said  ≠ “Good morning,” she sang.

“Get out,” he said  ≠ “Get out,” he bellowed.

“Help,” he said  ≠ “Help,” he screamed.

Some others: quipped, snapped, harrumphed, snorted, mused, offered, chirped...

Okay, you may not like some of these, but why exactly are they bad style? What are the criteria being used to determine their quality? It’s not like math. It’s not two plus two. There’s no objective standard.

Look, many of the rules floating around out there are useful, and we should bear them in mind as we write. In fact, I probably use “said” as a dialogue tags ninety-five percent of the time. But every now and then, I opt for a more expressive verb. The mot juste. 

And now that I’ve vented, please enjoy my resolutions.

I Hereby Resolve by James W. Ziskin

Upon the first of Jan-u-ary each and every year

I choose a comfy cushioned chair on which to park my rear

Then taking pencil, pen, or plume I think with all my might

About my life, my hopes, my dreams, and then begin to write

I make a note of all my flaws, my missteps, and my sins

And number them from one to ten and sort them into bins:

A catalogue of wishes, goals, and changes to achieve,

To lose some weight, to write more books, and royalties receive!

But not all thoughts are for myself, I also have a heart

So I resolve to do some good, pitch in, and play my part,

To be a better person and to help human-i-tee,

Or maybe just be satisfied to keep my san-i-tee

For all in all you must admit that things are not so good

At home, abroad, in Baltimore, and in your neighborhood

With guns and hate and politics and fears we cannot quell

It often seems we’re on a highway heading straight to hell 

But then I reason as I sit here in my pensive pose

Some things I can control and fix, so why not start with those?

My wrath, my sloth, and moods most foul are faults I could improve

Why not correct them right away? Cast out, erase, remove?

While in the past I must admit that my resolve was frail

This time my pledge is resolute; I don’t intend to fail

I vow to change, to grow, to thrive, and forge myself anew

And through hard work and sweat and blood I’ll make my dreams come true

But just in case my will is weak and my plans gang ag-ley

I’ll save this verse for twelve months more until next New Year’s Day

Then with high hopes and best intents I’ll shout for all to hear

The very same prom-is-es that I made and broke this year