Diction
Diction is word choice, and for
an author, word choice is…pretty much the entirety of your job. No pressure.
No, but seriously, I think of it
like this: if you’re choosing to write for fun, or for profit, there’s a good
chance you love words, and arranging them together to form sentences,
characters, and stories is more fun than piecing together Legos as a kid.
Writers express themselves through words, and the words they choose in particular have the ability to affect
a reader’s perception of the story. Smart, sophisticated word choice can make
the difference between a scene and an engaging
scene. Diction can also take a vague passage and make it unique and specific.
Here are my personal rules on the
topic:
Be Specific
Sometimes – as was the case in a
line I wrote this morning – your wording can be vague in order to express a
character’s struggle to understand something. In the scene, Trina was looking
at Lanny and struggling to pin down his expression; she couldn’t decipher the
way he was looking at her. But in general, it’s best to be specific. Sometimes,
I think a lack of specificity indicates that the writer isn’t sure how he or
she wants to describe something. But immersive writing is bolder than the way
we talk to one another every day.
In conversation, you might say,
“It was kinda cold on the boat.”
But written effectively, a
sentence might read: A cool breeze lifted off the water, raising goosebumps on
her arms.
Instead of “kind of cold,” or
“sort of cold,” or “a little bit cold,” you could use words like cold, frigid, artic, freezing; or cool, chilly, tepid.
Don’t say someone’s eyes are
“weird-looking.” Tell me that they’re reptilian,
or predatory, or stormy, or pale, or flinty, or dark, or warm, amber-colored.
Be Correct
Typos happen. Even in NYT
bestsellers put out by the big publishing houses. That’s understandable, and
unavoidable. But when you’re deciding to use a word, make sure you know what it
means and that you’re using it correctly.
That seems like a no-brainer, but
it’s important. If you can’t tell someone what a word means…go look it up.
Double-check it if you have doubts.
The trickier issue is using a
word that isn’t wrong, per se…but
could be better. A word that has mostly
the same meaning, but not quite.
A common example is the way the
words mumble, mutter, and murmur are
used interchangeably – when in fact each word holds a slightly different connotation.
To mumble is to say something at a
low volume, quiet and indistinct so that others have trouble hearing it. This can be conscious or unconscious – someone
who’s asleep and dreaming, or who’s delirious with fever, might mumble incoherently.
Muttering, however, implies that the
speaker is angry or irritated, dissatisfied. “Screw you,” he muttered. If it’s said with the intention that
someone or something go to hell – that’s muttering as opposed to mumbling. By
contrast, to murmur is to speak
quietly, indistinctly with a positive energy. A murmur can be romantic,
intimate, or lonesome. Nostalgic. Murmuring is gentle, soft.
“I don’t…I can’t…” he mumbled,
shaking his head, eyes squeezing shut.
“This is so stupid,” he muttered.
“Stay with me,” he murmured.
I once saw an author describe a
character’s gaze as “jiggling around the room.” I knew what the author meant –
that the character was looking around the room, gaze jumping from person to
person, searching. But the word choice was poor. Jiggle made me think of Jell-O. Of my own thighs when I walk. Of
testing a door handle. It also brought to mind plastic googly eyes that roll
around when you shake a stuffed animal. Authors are always looking for new,
original ways to say things, but that spirit of originality shouldn’t be taken
so far that diction suffers. Gazes can dart,
can flicker, can jump, can shift, can sweep…all would have been better
alternatives in this instance.
Vocabulary Building
The best way to improve diction
is simply to read. Read a lot. Read widely. As a reader, you’re under no
obligation to read anything but the books you enjoy most. But as an author, I
take serious the responsibility that I should write with correctness and
authority. So as a writer, I would recommend that you read outside your comfort
zone. Read critically-acclaimed literary fiction. Read horror. Read sci-fi.
Read Classics. Read romance. The more widely read you are, the better grasp you’ll
have on the ways language can be used to greatest effect; the better your
vocabulary will be. As you read, take note of words; look up the ones you don’t
know; study the way each particular author uses diction to impact meaning. Take
note of passages that inspired negative emotions; pick apart your preferences
and you’ll start to find patterns in the way you want to use language in your
own writing.
