The Trouble With Adverbs

"I believe the road to hell is paved with adverbs," writer Stephen King has declared. Many other writing pros agree that adverbial excess is the bane of creative prose, especially overuse of verb modifiers ending in "-ly." King is especially opposed to the use of adverbs in dialogue attribution. So what's so wrong with adverbs? Take this dialogue example: "'You're wrong,' she said angrily." Not awful, if your goal is "not awful" writing. This kind of adverb use is often the crutch of lazy or limited writing that lacks appropriately expressive verbs. So let's dump the adverb "angrily" and replace the neutral "said" with a verb such as "shouted," "snarled," "snapped," "shrilled" or "hissed." I think you can see that the alternative verbs, sans adverbs, paint a clearer and yet more nuanced scene, with implications about the degree of anger and the speaker's character. Or we could keep the "said" and replace the adverb with an action expressing anger, such as "she said through gritted teeth" or "she said, clenching her fists." Again, the reader can better visualize the conversation. Adverbs also can overpopulate the work of an insecure writer, who fears prose or dialogue just isn't getting the point across. So an unsure writer hits the reader over the head with a sentence such as "'You're wrong,' she shouted angrily." The adverb is redundant dead weight. Assuming the other person wasn't deaf, why would she shout if she wasn't angry? For more from adverb adversary Stephen King, including why King believes "fear is at the root of most bad writing," see http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2013/03/13/stephen-king-on-adverbs/

The Challenge of Creating a Good Villain

A traditional mystery, especially a murder mystery, requires a proper villain or two. Like a spider in a web, these antagonists are the prime movers at the heart of the mystery -- murdering, abetting, lying, betraying, and generally causing pain, grief and turmoil. Usually, the protagonist, who seeks to solve the central secret of who did what and why, can be flawed or tortured but must ultimately be on the side of justice if not the angels. And the villain can be sympathetic, even admirable, but must ultimately pay for choosing the wrong/evil path. So creating a foil or nemesis of the protagonist is central to my plotting, and crafting "evil" motives and characters is always the most challenging start of my writing process. The deadly sins are always handy motives -- wrath, greed, pride, lust, and envy being trusty root causes of many criminal downfalls. Or, antagonists can simply be monsters driven by insane or amoral cravings.  But I find such baddies too simplistic; interesting villains are more complex and more conflicted. They are guides to the darker corners of our own psyches where we can understand the allure and power of immoral choices. It is disturbing to see a common experience -- injustice, insecurity, manipulation, grief, love, fear, shame, lust -- unite with a common character flaw, such as selfishness, impulsiveness or ego, with tragic results. It implies that there is a potential villain in all of us. However, the most fascinating adversaries also have an X factor, a character trait that raises them above the ordinary sinner and makes them especially dangerous. Ironically, it is often a quality of greatness: charm, intelligence, beauty or courage. For more on creating villains, see http://theeditorsblog.net/2011/05/04/the-mean-the-bad-and-the-nasty-writing-villains/

When Wikipedia's Sexist Slip Showed in 2013

In case you didn't note it, Wikipedia had women trouble in 2013. It began when writer Amanda Filipacchi protested in an April New York Times op-ed piece that Wikipedia was quietly but systematically removing all women from the category "American novelists" and placing them in the subcategory of "American women novelists." Headlines and commentators decried Wikipedia's sexism, and many attributed bias to the fact that Wikipedia's cyberspace editors are 90% male. The issue also highlighted all kinds of Wikipedia ghettos, where women and racial or ethnic groups were assigned only to subcategories. Well, after the uproar, the women novelists are listed in the main American novelist category again, as well as in the American women novelist subcategory and whatever other subcategories Wikipedia pedants deem relevant, from mystery writers to lesbian writers to African-American women writers. This is a debate that many may dismiss as overly sensitive semantics about an effort to logically structure information. But I think it reflects real social challenges. When we collectively think about people by category, we can place real limits on how we treat them in education, in politics and even in personal relationships. We set different standards and expectations based on assumed generalized characteristics, and we may justify subtle or blatant discrimination based on stereotypes. Human "categories" have lead to oppression, genocide and war, and we need to be very careful of their use and implications. Wikipedia is just one mirror of how we think about each other; there are many other examples in our media, politics and private lives. We really do need to be vigilant and vocal when faced with distorted "categorizing." For more on the Wikipedia controversy, see http://www.nybooks.com/blogs/nyrblog/2013/apr/29/wikipedia-women-problem/

Why I Thank the Scrooges in My Life

Though I was raised by Scrooges and have a Bah-Humbug spouse, I refuse to succumb to holiday depression. Every year I experience a kind of seasonal euphoria that certainly isn't due to childhood traditions. My parents only reluctantly engaged in celebrations "for the children" -- all the while expressing distaste for the commercialism and bitterness over memories of Depression-era privations. Then, as atheists, they debunked the Nativity story. Perhaps I was a changeling child, because I still bustled around singing Christmas carols, making decorations from construction paper, and tuning the TV to seasonal specials. As an adult, I am the champion of the holiday spirit in my home. My Indian husband was raised in a Hindu household without Western traditions. He spends his Xmas complaining about the expense and the bland seasonal food he has to choke down. Yet every year, I happily decorate a tree, send seasonal cards, cook traditional fare, and play holiday music that no one else listens to. I welcome my children and relatives who can visit, and send my love to those who must be absent. I remember the faces that I have not seen in many years because of distance and death. I count my blessings and give more to charities. And I thank the Scrooges. They forced me to cultivate a personal meaning for the holidays that has nothing to do with religious orientation or retail hype or transient circumstances. As Scrooge's nephew explained to him in Dickens' A Christmas Carol, I embrace the season "as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!" Happy Holidays to all.

Why Do We Binge on Holiday Shopping?

Every year I swear off excess holiday shopping, and then I walk into a mall and binge. A Psychology Today article explains why I am so easily seduced into this shopaholic state. Consider the seasonal red-and-green color scheme used by many retailers: Red stimulates and energizes--even our spending. Studies show that waitresses wearing red get 14% to 26% higher tips than waitresses wearing other colors, for example. Add green, an optimistic color associated with wealth (ah, happy thoughts), and I'm eager to spend. Meanwhile, merchants drench the air with holiday scents wired directly to emotions and memories. Pine scent especially evokes feelings of happiness and nostalgia, according to studies. And while I'm in the mood, other stores pipe holiday music into my ears to hype nostalgia further. Research shows that nostalgia elevates positive mood, creates a sense of emotional connection, and inspires a rosy view of the past--so I want to revive childhood's holiday magic with my dollars. Then I just have to touch a soft cashmere sweater on a display table, and I'm standing in line to purchase, because studies find that we’re significantly more likely to buy what we touch. That's why retailers design stores with merchandise roadblocks. Since we’re naturally drawn toward the center of a display, stores put pricier items there, with the second-best placement just to the right of center where the right-handed majority will likely touch first. Even the frustrations--jammed parking lots, shoving crowds, and a race against time--work against sober shopping. Anxiety interferes with rational decision-making, psychologists warn. So is the answer to just shop online? If only I could, but every holiday I end up at the mall at least once--and face temptation. So here's my New Year's resolution: I'll just say no to red-and-green, pine-scented, "dreaming of a white Christmas," warm and fuzzy, anxiety-spurred retail traps next year. For now, I'll ruefully wrap an overabundance of gifts. For more on the pyschology of holiday shopping, see http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-why-behind-the-buy/201212/is-your-brain-holiday-shopping

My Offer to the Book Club Circuit

I would love to see more book clubs put my mystery Lies Agreed Upon on their 2014 agendas, and I can be available in person for Southern California group discussions--and perhaps even meetings in other areas--if given enough notice. I admit I am still perfecting my book club presentation. I have developed suggested discussion questions, of course, but the book groups I have attended want to know more; they are interested in the creative process. I have found myself talking about plotting and character development, background research, editing and rewriting, word choice and writing style, time management and writer's block. But I sensed I was omitting a key ingredient of creative writing. I realized after a recent book group meeting that I needed to do better at sharing the "magic" as well as the mechanics of writing. By that I mean those serendipitous events--a random memory, a TV news story, a phone conversation, a chance encounter in a shopping mall--that inspire an "aha" moment and a new plot twist or a new character or even a whole new story. There were plenty of those as I wrote my novel. I assume that my mind, focused on an imaginary world, tended to strain and re-purpose real-world input to fit the fiction. But it felt much more exciting than that. It was as if the universe purposely delivered insight, illuminating truth with a beam of light from on high or from deep inside, but definitely from somewhere beyond conscious control. As Harry Potter's creator J.K. Rowling has said, “There's nothing better when something comes and hits you and you think 'YES'!” For me, fiction writing relies as much on that occasional epiphany as it does on steady wordsmithing--and I promise to share more of those "YES" moments if invited to speak with your book group. Download suggested discussion questions at http://authorkatherinesharma.com/discussion-questions-1.html

Traditional Feasts Serve Up Food's Emotional Power

Busy prepping for Thanksgiving Day's shared feasting, I began to think about the role food plays in our lives and our literature. There's no denying that food generates some of our most evocative memories of emotions, places, and people. Few other experiences can match eating for both cultural uniqueness and universality. Numerous old saws equate food and love (the way to a man's heart, of course). Why? In The Omnivorous Mind, John Allen has written a whole book about the evolving human relationship with food. Nearly all cultures engage in feasting to commemorate past or seasonal events with an abundance of food. The practice probably began about 1 million or 2 million years ago, posits Allen, when humans began hunting really big animals, like mammoths, and needed to share temporary excesses of food so that it would not go to waste. When agriculture developed, humans added harvest feasts--which led to our own Thanksgiving tradition. But our relationship with food is more than historical; somewhere along our evolutionary path, we developed the special wiring that makes food so central to human social and emotional life. For one thing, Allen points out, the digestive system produces hormones like insulin, leptin and ghrelin that act on the hippocampus, a part of the brain that plays a key role in memory; thus, we tend to remember food events, and a certain food can trigger vivid recall of people, settings and feelings. The brain's dopamine system, which rewards us with feelings of pleasure, also becomes active when people look at a favorite food--or someone they love. In our brains, food really is linked to love. To get ready for the feasts still ahead, you may want to sample food's emotional resonance in stories such as Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel, Babette's Feast by Isak Dinesen, and A Christmas Memory by Truman Capote. And you can check out Allen's book at http://www.amazon.com/The-Omnivorous-Mind-Evolving-Relationship-ebook/dp/B008533FSI