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Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Strong style, strong voice.

At least they put spaces between the words. Christopher Columbus' annotated Marco Polo. 
(Wiki.)




















by Louis Shalako





I have a unique writing style.

I have a strong voice.

My writing style, and that voice, dictates the way the page is laid out to some extent.

In modern fiction, you will note that every chapter and every new scene begins with a block paragraph, even though every other paragraph in the book has an indent from the margin.

Indents help the reader’s eye to find the next paragraph. A book without indents would look very old fashioned, in fact the old Gothic manuscripts didn’t even have spaces between words.

The typeface or even hand lettering in those old books is practically unreadable by modern standards.

This is the only industry I know that has been in the experimental stage for several thousand years.

In the light of new knowledge, new challenges and new opportunities, we learn to do things just a bit differently.

***

A single sentence should have one idea, one action.

“John ran down the street.”

Here’s a ‘bad line’:

“John ran down the street and the kettle boiled.”

Taken all on its own, and with nothing else to support it, the second line makes a lot less sense.

A paragraph should have sentences that convey a fuller picture of the idea or action. Ah, but the first line of this particular story—my blog post, stands all on its own, full, complete, and needing nothing else. It’s not a bad hook, either, assuming the reader made it this far.

When you go on to the next idea or action, you go on to the next paragraph.

If you look at Anne R Allen’s blog post, you will see she’s talking about synopses, but she’s also talking about hooks, loglines, and pitches.

I like to have one good line at the beginning of a chapter or scene. I like to end on one was well.

The trouble is, what happens when I try to make it a block paragraph? It’s too short. The problem is worse when the chapter or scene begins with a short line of dialogue.

Conventional or traditional formatting has its limitations.

Not to indent the first line, in the case of dialogue, would simply look wrong when the line is a short one.

To indent that first line would be a ‘mistake,’ because it’s not a block paragraph. Their own rules hang them up to such an extent that a ‘good’ editor, i.e., one steeped in tradition, would ask the writer to rewrite that text so that it more properly conforms to the needs of the formatters.

To do that would be to lose something unique from that author, this ‘voice’ we keep hearing so much about.

The basic problem is pretty simple. I can’t use an indent where it’s clearly not called for, and then go ahead and use one when the first bit of a new chapter or scene has a bigger block of text and a block paragraph would actually work.

For that reason, I have developed a house style, that is a style of formatting that I use consistently from one book to the next.

The fact that they are all initially published as e-books does have some bearing on the history of this, for if a block of text is cut in half on a page-turn, it looks like a block paragraph anyway, although the letter in the upper left corner of the e-reader is not a capital letter because it occurs in the middle of a sentence.

A traditional book does that too, and readers are used to seeing it, so no one says anything.

It seems that the new technology spurred some new developments in formatting, or at least forced me to think about what I was doing and why I was doing it.

Should other writers now begin imitate my formatting style?

***

Just as a mental exercise, I’ve laid this out completely differently, please bear in mind this is a blog post and I never use indents on a blog post although I have experimented with them on another blog.


I have a unique writing style. I have a strong voice. My writing style, and that voice, dictates the way the page is laid out to some degree. In modern fiction, you will note that every chapter and every new scene begins with a block paragraph, even though every other paragraph in the book has an indent from the margin. Indents help the reader’s eye to find the next paragraph. A book without indents would look very old fashioned, in fact the old Gothic manuscripts didn’t even have spaces between words. The typeface or even hand lettering in those old books is practically unreadable by modern standards. A single sentence should have one idea, one action. “John ran down the street.” Here’s a ‘bad line’: “John ran down the street and the kettle boiled.” Taken all on its own, and with nothing else to support it, the second line makes a lot less sense. A paragraph should have sentences that convey a fuller picture of the idea or action. Ah, but the first line of this particular story—my blog post, stands all on its own, full, complete, and needing nothing else. It’s not a bad hook, either, assuming the reader made it this far. When you go on to the next idea or action, you go on to the next paragraph. If you look at Anne R Allen’s blog post, you will see she’s talking about synopses, but she’s also talking about hooks, log-lines, and pitches. I like to have one good line at the beginning of a chapter or scene. I like to end on one was well. The trouble is, what happens when I try to make it a block paragraph? It’s too short. The problem is worse when the chapter or scene begins with a short line of dialogue.Conventional or traditional formatting has its limitations. Not to indent the first line, in the case of dialogue, would simply look wrong when the line is a short one. To indent that first line would be a ‘mistake,’ because it’s not a block paragraph. Their own rules hang them up to such an extent that a ‘good’ editor, i.e., one steeped in tradition, would ask the writer to rewrite that text so that it more properly conforms to the needs of the formatters. To do that would be to lose something unique from that author, this ‘voice’ we keep hearing so much about. The basic problem is pretty simple. I can’t use an indent where it’s clearly not called for, and then go ahead and use one when the first bit of a new chapter or scene has a bigger block of text and a block paragraph would actually work. This is the only industry I know that has been in the experimental stage for several thousand years.
In the light of new knowledge, new challenges and new opportunities, we learn to do things just a bit differently.
For that reason, I have developed a house style, which is a style of formatting that I use consistently from one book to the next.
The fact that they are all initially published as e-books does have some bearing on the history of this, for if a block of text is cut in half on a page-turn, it looks like a block paragraph anyway, although the letter in the upper left corner of the e-reader is not a capital letter because it occurs in the middle of a sentence.
A traditional paperback might do that too, and readers are used to seeing it so no one says anything.
It seems that the new technology spurred some new developments in formatting, or at least forced me to think about what I was doing and why I was doing it.
Should other writers now begin imitate my formatting style?

***

I don’t know, ladies and gentlemen, but the first block paragraph in this second example sure is hard to follow, isn’t it?

That’s because I’m trying to jam too many ideas into the same paragraph. It is true that the example is also a bit exaggerated.

If I do something in one of my books, whether in the writing, the formatting, or whatever—the first weak term I have used in the entire story, it’s because I have a reason.

That’s right, ladies and gentlemen: I have a reason.

The funny thing is, no one ever asks the question.


END


“Hey, Andre.” De Garmeaux nodded at the floater. “Anything special?”
“Nah.” Sergeant Andre Levain shrugged. “It’s just another poor and anonymous soul who couldn’t take it anymore.”
A small group of onlookers on the street above stood in contrast to the pedestrians with umbrellas open and faces to the wind, refusing to even acknowledge their presence as they scurried past to their workplace. A line of buildings, windows impenetrable due to glare and grime, ignored the disruption and reflected and amplified shouts, bicycle bells and car horns. A few bleary-eyed faces were visible in a brightly lit café on the far side of the street as they read the papers and sipped scalding coffees.

***

This is from ‘The Art of Murder’ and it’s pretty obvious why I don’t want to use a ‘block paragraph,’ or more properly, no indent, for the first line. This is just one example. Yet whatever I do for formatting, I have to do it consistently over the full text.

Having evolved the strong style, and the strong voice, I might as well stick with it.

***












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