Casual Vernacular isn’t Just for Dialogue
When it comes to phonetically writing out accents, the
readers are divided. Illustrating a character’s speech with too many
apostrophes and uncommon conjunctions can be very distracting, and often does
not encourage the viewer to hear it in a natural way.
On the other hand, when a writer commits to it, you can
get used to it, and it can be a far more entertaining read once you get the
hang of something different.
The book Dustlands,
a young adult dystopian novel, features a first-person narrative from the
perspective of an uneducated girl. The author doesn’t use quotations, writes in
first person, and has lines like, “Because everythin’s set. It’s all fixed. The
lives of everybody who’s ever bin born. The lives of everybody still waitin to
be born.”
The major comment on the book is this style, and many are
agreed: it’s jarring at first, but most grow accustomed to it.
Mark Twain, Uncle
Remus, and A Clockwork Orange is
notorious for this, and many books, done with moderation, have enhanced their
atmosphere by including just a little bit of natural twang.
That is, however, not what I’m talking about.
When I say “casual vernacular,” it could reference
accents and unconventional conjunctions, but mostly it talks about the little
things—sentence fragments, starting with an “and” or “but” or “or,” “me and”
instead of “and I.” You know, basic grammar rules that many discard in actual
conversation.
Writers, when giving advice, will often harp on proper
grammar, and there often is some validity to it. The mistakes we get away with
when on the time-restricted activity of oral conversation are not appropriate
when in the competitive field of writing. We believe great writers to have
precision and a better control over their language than the average person and
will hold our authors to a higher standard.
Plus, it actually does lend to better control over the
language; knowing and implementing the rules can gain more trust from the
audience as well as give more options to your palate. In the same way that
knowing and accurately applying to difference between “walk” and “amble” can
make both words more effective, so can knowing the difference between an
ellipsis (…) and a dash (—).
On the other hand, we shouldn’t ignore that grammar is an
easy method of proving superiority of writing ability. I can’t convince you
that I can write wonderful characters in a sentence, but I can show off all of
my grammar knowledge. Sometimes grammar isn’t criticized because its effective,
but just because the speaker is showing off. Adding in the fact that sometimes
technically correct sentences will sound strange to the local ear, it makes
sense that just because someone fixates on proper structure doesn’t actually
make their advice useful.
I would even argue that being technically correct and
formal can become a huge mistake commonly portrayed by beginning writers.
If you read a lot of “first books” and unpolished
fiction, you might notice a trend in having an explanatory tone of voice. Many
writers will attempt to subconsciously work from a camera’s P.O.V., the voice
of the narrator being fixated on being clear and accurate. Instead of having
atmosphere or influencing the reader emotionally, they attempt to describe
events unemotionally, in chronological order, without the other senses like
smell or feeling. It sounds almost like a textbook.
The narrator has no opinions. It does not want to sway
the audience by telling them what they should feel. Instead, it lays out the
events in a precise manner—“He pulled out a three inch blade with his left
hand, walking two steps forward towards his son, Jonathan.”—and will stop the
pacing of a moment to explain something that no character would be thinking
about at that time, destroying the tension of a little girl fleeing from a
monster to go into this explanation that she didn’t use the word daddy because
she considered it to be childish and she wanted to be an adult, which is why
she stole her mother’s high heels that one time, all in the course of three
seconds when she’s about to be devoured.
These stories often have the opposite issue of the
beginning writer who tends to overwrite, (What has two thumbs?) the ones who
focus on voice enough that they may not be delivering actual information as
much as describing grass nicely. But instead of being too poetic, the
explanatory writers are so intent on being clear that they forsake inflection,
atmosphere, tension, feeling, or perspective.
They believe this is a good thing. “I don’t want to tell the readers how to feel. I want them to decide for themselves!”
Which is a legitimate desire. You can make the objective
and formal narrator work for you, and it’s definitely something to be
considered when you’re feeling inclined to write that way. It’s important to
never just disregard your instincts simply because it is a similar instinct to
what other people have, or because other people do it poorly. A writer who
focuses on an objective description of events can utilize it to enhance their
book immensely.
But it’s hard. Sometimes it’s not worth it, and it’s
definitely a question of do you do it because it’s best or because that’s just
what you happened to have done and you don’t want to change it?
It’s one of those things that I would recommend having a
reason for doing outside of it could
work. Telling events in a cold, formal manner can make those moments feel
remote, be harder to relate to the characters, and not influence the readers
emotionally, only intellectually. It is exactly the difference between watching
a movie about an event versus a documentary. That may be way you want, but
acknowledge what is actually happening and be honest about the reward. If you
don’t see an actual benefit, realize that it’s much easier and often more
enjoyable to write something with a voice.
When discussing grammar rules, some writers will argue
that breaking them is a poor choice. You must speak properly when writing.
There definitely is a higher expectation of grammar when it comes to the
written word, and ignoring that standard can make you look like you don’t know
what you’re doing. But I believe that restricting yourself to doing what is
“technically correct” versus what is actually done is foolish. There are so
many methods to creating ambiance, voice, and conveying meaning portrayed through
officially improper writing, and it would be foolish to limit ourselves from
using them just because some book says you’re technically not supposed to. Especially
because most of us know those who write so correctly that they sound like
English is their second language. Writing perfect grammar doesn’t mean people
are going to enjoy or respect your book any more so than if you had written how
you speak.
When you put it like this, most people will agree with
you. I’ve gotten in several conversations about it which usually ends in their
understanding of my view. But then, they add, “I think that applies more to
dialogue.”
I don’t. And while I would agree that you can get away
with more in dialogue, and you might even want to be more “wrong” in conversation than you’re even naturally inclined, I
do not believe that using realistic vernacular in even a third-person narrative
is a bad thing. In many cases, I think writers need to let themselves be less
formal when it comes to description.
It depends on what you’re going for. In many high fantasy
novels, the formal way of writing makes the reader feel like they are in a
different time and place. Writing casual vernacular would modernize it and
actually destroy the atmosphere. Sometimes you want to keep your characters at
a distance, being objective and cold towards the protagonist illustrates his
isolation and loneliness. It might be interesting to tell a story as though the
narrator was a historian, or even the main character looking back on the events
in an objective manner.
Therefore, I am, under no circumstances, suggesting that
formal and technically correct narration is a bad thing in itself. It is,
however, not the only choice, and it should definitely not be considered the
default option. It can do great things when used in the right context, but most
times, it’s very, very boring.
By applying the way we actually talk to the narrator’s
voice, you have far more options in how you inform the audience of something.
Why start a sentence with a conjunction? I mean, isn’t a
conjunction like “and” and “but” a connection of two thoughts? Doesn’t that
mean it doesn’t make sense at the start of a sentence?
Only looking at it from a technical standpoint. From a
tonal and psychological one, starting with a conjunction can completely change
a thought, and even help clarify it. It implies evolution of thought, can link
two sentences together without hurting the duration of the action implied by
the length of the sentence, can help the reader compartmentalize complex and
lengthy ideologies, and allows for lists of long actions. Why have a sentence
fragment? It too implies evolution of thought and can help reader
compartmentalize. It also helps the writer have more control length of
sentence, allowing for shorter ones and segregating/emphasizing their points
without confusing people into thinking you’ve changed subjects.
Mostly, however, it implies a humanity to the narrator.
Even if you’re writing in third-person omniscient, where the narrator is never
actually seen or described as a character, giving it an opinion, letting it
describe a chair as ugly, a man as a douchebag, or just have its own take on
words can bring out your personal color and perception, taking dull moments of
necessary events and making them about communicating with a human being rather
than a relay of information.
Do not be pedantic when it comes to technical grammar.
Consider first and foremost the benefit of the decision; you will never prove
that you are a good writer by complaining about the use of the word “anyways”
or that you can’t “whisper loudly,” only that you are a frustrated one. Always
be open minded to the real world, and consider making your narrator more than
just a textbook spewing out information. If your story lacks a voice, consider, maybe, hearing how people really talk and focusing less on how they should be.