Don't Panic and Carry a Style Guide: Preliminary 1

Disclaimer

The purpose of this guide is to teach you, the writer, what you should and shouldn’t do to assure the quality of your stories, and to show you how to best communicate with other authors as well as your audience. We, the authors of this guide, understand this will come across as telling you what to do, but that is the point of any style guide or anyone offering advice. There are many ways of creating and viewing storytelling. We are merely providing our viewpoints on it.

Introduction

“There’s no sea chart for a boat in a hurricane. But there are still some basic ways to make her seaworthy and keep her from capsizing, going to pieces, or hitting an iceberg.” Ursula K. Le Guin, Steering the Craft

Writing a story can be scary. Everywhere you turn there is uncertainty. To travel in any direction is to invite hidden disasters. To remain is to accept known disasters. Every choice has some consequence attached to it. Nothing is without cost. If such is the case, then why do we venture out in the first place if the risks are so high? Perhaps it is the thrill of adventure that we seek, or perhaps we have nothing to lose. All I know, many have sailed into the storm of creativity, lacking map or compass, with no heading or course, adrift in some mental haze seeking a yearning, only to be swallowed up by the waves of failure.

Creating a story of any quality is not easy. Writing and editing this style guide, with two people guiding it at the helm, is not easy. For most of us, including myself, writing stories takes work, study, and practice to pull off. Guides, like the one you are reading, act as safe ports in the storm of creativity. They attempt to solve common problems of grammar, style, and usage, while training writers in sound story techniques. The rules set by guides might be arbitrary, but they provide a means of standardizing communication between writers, and with their audience. More importantly, they provide that safe port where the novice may find him- or herself better equipped to venture out into those dark stormy seas, and return.

The purpose of this style guide is to provide you, the writer, a point to start from and a compiled list of topics for your consideration to better your skills in storytelling and in writing. Some of these topics will be long, while others will be rather short. Regardless of the topic, both of us are going to trim the fat from what would be expected in a style guide. I believe The Elements of Style by William Strunk Jr. and E. B. White is a good example of a trim and to the point style guide. However, perhaps too trim and not addressing enough topics that a writer of stories should be considering.

Since this is our first installment, we both agreed that some preliminary topics should be addressed before tackling the larger subjects. We are going to keep these topics short and to the point because you only need to see where we are coming from and where our logic is going.

In any case, by no means do we claim that our style guide is the only way, nor that rules or guidelines are ironclad laws.

A Tale of Two Skills: Differentiating Storyteller from Writer

Storytelling has been with us for a good part of our history. It has served as a tool for our survival, preserved our values and history, and in the modern era is used for entertainment purposes. In that span of time, it has evolved in many directions, specifically, how it is conveyed. From oral traditions, music, dance, to books, drama, and photography we enjoy storytelling through all kinds of media. For the purposes of this guide, we are going to concern ourselves with narrative prose.

Narrative prose is made of two parts. Prose, the ordinary written language of people; and the narrative mode, the art of using story, plot, characters, and other such narrative elements and devices to convey information. I bring this point up because telling stories requires two skill sets. One as a writer. One as a storyteller.

I know “writer” tends to be used as an equivalent for “storyteller” but the two are separate skill sets. Anyone can be a writer if one writes. A grocery list qualifies a person as a writer. That might sound insulting to those who see writing only as art, but it is true. Writing a medical journal, or a screenplay, or a set of instructions qualifies someone as a writer. The same idea applies to storytelling. To convey a story by spoken word, or by pictures, or by dance is to be a storyteller.

Though it is necessary to use both skill sets for narrative prose, it is possible to have good storytelling skills and not have good writing skills. You can create a well-crafted idea for a story and execute it poorly with subpar writing and vice versa.

Style Guides and Friends

All of us have a love for these magical pastel quadrupeds and their message of friendship, enough so to go out of our way to write stories about them.

A story is an entity of its own. It exists in a type of stasis on the page, a creation from some other mind, waiting for the imagination of another to bring it to life. For it to survive it needs to be read and to be shared. As storytellers and writers, we want the reader not just to embrace our creation, but to spread the word of its existence. We want return visitors, and we want them to come back with new readers to keep what we have poured our life energy into alive. After all, in this modern world where everything is fighting for our attention, a good story premise can accomplish much. A well-written story, however, can be downright infectious.

A style guide is a very handy tool in this endeavor. It acts as an aid by exploring the nuances of grammar, punctuation, and other stylistic issues that will arise. Granted, style guides do tell you how to write, but if you are paying attention, the guide is also instructing you how to break rules.

Currently, I have six guides, including Elements of Style and The Chicago Manual of Style, and will be getting others in the foreseeable future. I’m a freelance editor. It’s my job to understand this stuff. It might seem excessive to have a handful of style guides, but in my case, it isn’t. For you, having a style guide in your corner will act as a life preserver when you find your ship sinking in the storm of creativity.

Another tome of wisdom you should have at your side is a usage guide. Don’t mistake this guide for a style guide, though there is going to be overlap. Think of usage guides as a dictionary for (but not limited to) troubling words, for example, words like infer and imply, or who and whom, or affect and effect. These guides are concerned more so about how to use these problem words correctly. In the case of Garner’s Modern English Usage by Bryan Garner, his guide keeps track of the statistics as to which word is more accepted. Not every usage guide will do this. Some dictionaries and style guides will attempt to address usage, but their efforts tend to be lean. I currently have two usage guides. Garner’s Modern English Usage by Bryan Garner (which addresses both American and British English) and Wilson Follett’s Modern American Usage.

As for dictionaries and thesauruses, every writer should have at least one college (or collegiate—it’s the same thing, different term) version of each instead of the plain version. I know some might look at me and wonder what I am talking about, so let me try this a different way. If you take a plain dictionary and a college dictionary and place them next to each other, the college version should be thicker. More entries, more definitions, more to work with when picking words. Writing requires a step up from the mundane to tackle issues that may arise. If you’re worried about paying for such a thing, there are always free online dictionaries and thesauruses. (Also, while we cannot suggest that you do so, it is possible to find most books in the murky waters of the internet for free.) Merriam-Webster has a free version and a paid unabridged version. In my case, the unabridged version is more of a requirement considering what I do.

Between the Dichotomies

Looking back at older stories that came from the earlier part of the 20th century, I wonder what happened to the seemingly formal writing style. Professionally, I found it to be overly rigid to read and the authors being full of themselves with their language, kind of like they smelled their own farts claiming them to be exquisite perfume. If the writing style of Brave New World by Aldous Huxley is an indicator of what was lost, I don’t mind losing it. On the other hand, I am not a fan of the mess that informal writing can be, because when it is bad, it makes me yearn for the exquisite farts. I prefer a more balanced approach to writing. It allows for flexibility with a backbone. But the topic of formal or informal is not the point here. The winner-takes-all attitude of false contrasts between two sides is.

On team red, we have the prescriptivists with how grammar and words should be used, and on team blue, we have the descriptivists with how grammar and words are currently used. See how they spit and scream at each other and shake their sticks in the air. But let’s not forget the minimalists reacting to the maximalists by stripping down the story to its barest essentials, and the maximalists reacting to the minimalists by engorging the story like a stuffed pig.

Perhaps I'm being a bit silly and frustrated. However, I find the false contrasts people put into place on these topics staggering. The real dichotomies are about exploring degrees of expression. Tones of subtlety. There is no show or tell; there is only show and tell. A story can have spots that are beige and purple. Minimal in some places, maximal in others. Formal to express clarity, informal to express emotion. Prescriptive as a soldier obeying the rules, descriptive as a jester breaking them for that punchline. Stories do not need to be one or the other. They can be both. Yes, sometimes a story can lean more so one way than the other. There is nothing wrong with that. But the claim that this side is the true side. The best side. The correct side—the only side—is a lie. There are no sides. Just gradients.

Understanding Advice

There is a lot of advice out there. Some of it is good. Some of it is misguided. Some of it is even designed to be hurtful. It is important to be mindful of those who you get your advice from.

Now, don’t mistake me. Good advice can be packaged in horrible wrappings. People put their feet in their mouths all the time. Every writer should work on thickening his or her skin to handle criticism and put the ego in its place, but this only goes so far. Bad advice is still bad advice.

Take “show, don’t tell” as an example. If we take it at face value no one would ever tell parts of a story again. Writers would only show. Always show. That’s not how storytelling works. Denying tell would hinder pacing and flow and a lot of other narrative elements and devices. For the novice, it is important to understand how to balance these two, but even more important—why.

When tackling advice, it is best to view it with a little asterisk noting “It depends.” I know that doesn’t seem like a good thing, but there is always an exception to the rules and advice.

Each story will have its own unique problems that need to be addressed accordingly. Yes, stories will have the typical “X, Y, and Z” problems that a broad generalized piece of advice can fix, and this is where following most of the rules will benefit you. For the issues that can’t be fixed with such advice, it will depend, mostly, on what the author’s intentions are or what the desired effect on the reader is supposed to be. If you understand what you are trying to accomplish, you’re already halfway there in handling advice. If you are being honest with yourself, you’ve made the other half. Make sure you understand what you are trying to accomplish and be honest with yourself about it.

The Subjective Nature of Labeling Terms

As with any craft, there is jargon. Sadly, for a group that is supposed to focus on clarity, we are not clear on definitions or keeping to a single term. Let’s look at some examples.

• Literary Elements
• Literary Devices
• Literary Techniques
• Story Elements
• Story Devices
• Narrative Elements
• Narrative Techniques
• Elements of Literature
• Fictional Devices

Each term is an attempt in describing one or two categories in fiction. Some storytellers will claim one term for their purposes while others claim other terms in this list, or even some that aren’t listed here. Some storytellers may claim the validity of certain terms while others demand acknowledgment of terms that don’t exist. A little dose of skepticism is called for when presented with any term and its definition. Always be careful when doing your research as you might find those twelve terms you looked up are repeats of the same three terms.

To illustrate, the above terms have been grouped together into two categories:

Elements

• Narrative Element
• Literary Element
• Element of Literature
• Story Elements

Devices

• Narrative Devices
• Literary Device
• Literary Technique
• Narrative Technique
• Fictional Devices
• Story Devices

The reasoning why a storyteller would pick one term over the other can be as simple as it sounds better. Since we are working in narrative prose, thus using the narrative mode, it is understandable that elements and devices would be labeled with “narrative” in front (and that is our stance on the subject). The same understanding can be applied to a work of literature (as in literary element or literary device), as well as to those who are tired of the mess and create their own terms.

All in all, there is no difference between narrative element, literary element, or story element. All are fully acceptable to use to describe the core parts of a story. As to what those core parts are is its own discussion.

Regardless of how a person labels all or each individual part of the craft of storytelling, we are going to use narrative elements and devices, or NEDs, to keep things simple as a catchall for all the elements, devices, tools, tricks, techniques, and so forth—at the very least for the sake of argument during this and future installments. The important thing here isn’t how NEDs are labeled, rather, what they are, how they interact with each other, and how we can apply them.

Narrative Elements and Devices (NEDs)

Since we are using the narrative mode, the terms within this guide can be collectively termed narrative elements and devices or NEDs. From there they will be separated into two groups: narrative elements and narrative devices.

Narrative elements will consist of parts of a story required for it to function ideally. Let me say that again. To function ideally. I could have said “practically,” but I want to emphasize more than the mundane or basic ability to function.

To clarify, think of how a car needs four wheels to move. Technically a car can move on three wheels. Technically, but not ideally. Having four wheels makes it ideally functional. The same can be said about removing the headlamps. It technically functions, but not ideally, as far as navigation goes in the dark. So, what I’m getting at here is that elements like plot or character can technically be absent from a story, though it is not ideal to do so. In which case, think of them as required for a functioning conventional story.

Narrative devices are tools (“techniques” would be a way of looking at them, but after some debate, it is best to leave that term for a different subject) that aid a story but are not required for it to function. In other words, a story may require the red herring device for it to function ideally, not all stories require a red herring.

Methodologies

If you have ever picked up a craft book or read a guide on storytelling, which also includes this guide, you have encountered a methodology. In short, how someone does or how something is done.

I bring this up because no matter from whom you learn, us included, you will be learning a methodology. When you create a character, you will be using a method. When you build worlds, a method will be employed. When you outline you will be either pantsing, plotting, or both. There is no escaping it.

When first learning the ropes of storytelling, it is possible to accidentally confuse storytelling methodologies as one big standardization. That is not the case. Methodologies, just like the text you are reading, do their best to define a variety of tools, techniques, guidelines, elements, devices, and so forth in a particular way. This also includes what should and shouldn’t be part of the craft. Methodologies also dictate how to implement such elements and devices.

Though it is said there is no correct way of telling—writing—a story, methodologies tell storytellers how to write. The same can be said about teachers, lectures, and style guides. In which case it is wise to examine other methodologies to see what is similar, what is different, and what advice still floats after poking it. At the time of writing this, I have many guides from twenty-one different authors, each with their own methodology, sitting on a bookshelf in my office. That’s not including the style and usage guides.

The downside of many methodologies is that terms get redefined or relabeled, causing arbitrary bickering between storytellers. It is also possible to encounter methodologies that stem from ignorance rather than from research and practice. Or from different media, like screenwriting or poetry. Always poke a methodology before accepting any of its advice.

A word of caution, be wary about taking advice intended for other media as the advice might not entirely be compatible with prose. Remember, a movie needs to convey a lot of information in a small space of time and may have to edit out relevant details for that time constraint. A novel can only focus on a little amount of information at any given moment but has a lot of time to see it all done.

The methodology within this guide is designed to improve the storyteller’s understanding of the craft to gain greater freedom and flexibility while encouraging the storyteller to experiment to find new ways to enrich a story. In short, our methodology is about helping you find your methodology.

Outro

If you are interested in what you’ve read, further installments are in the works and can be found on both EverfreePony’s blog and mine (Adventuring Editor) as well as in the forums of a few groups. If all goes well, we might expand this and create a separate group.

I can’t say we will be pushing out article after article, week by week. Both of us are busy people. Articles will come out when they are ready. There is a lot to talk about, a lot to research, debate, and condense into a small blog posting. So, till the next blog keep your pencils sharp and your minds sharper.

Written by Adventuring Editor
Peer-Reviewed by EverfreePony
Edited by Adventuring Editor

Comments

[armid]

At first I thought this was the next instalment in these blogs. False hope apparently.

[EverfreePony]

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Heh, we'll make sure to get it out as soon as possible.

[Etyco Filly]

I'm looking forward to future installments of this. They might be what I need to finally get motivated enough to look into writing methodology instead of just haphazardly doing what I've seen work.

[Adventuring Editor]

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Ever has me working as fast as my hooves can. There are some nights I'm not even allowed to sleep. She's always cracking the whip... Oh, hey Ever. Didn't see you over there. I'll get back to work.

[eiggengrau]

In many fields on endeavor there are those who would tell one how to do whatever. Rarely do their instructions include any mention as to why their particular advice is worthy of attention. Kudos for doing so, and well.