I’m going to go a little off the beaten path today and, rather than discuss a cliché, discuss a mistake writers make. Warning: This is one of those ‘once you see it, you can’t un-see it’ peeves. If you enjoy reading, say, 95% of all fiction, maybe you should skip this article. However, if you consider yourself a writer, you’re practically honor-bound to read on.
Say that you walk into a restaurant, sit down, and people-watch. Sitting at the table next to you are a man and a woman. You observe that they smile at each other and speak intimately, and are both wearing wedding rings; you gather that they’re either married or cheating on their respective spouses. They’re well-to-do, dressed in nice clothes; the man sometimes gets up to answer his Blackberry, possibly indicating workoholism.
Do you know their names? You might know the first name of one or the other if they called each other by name during their conversation. Other than that, you don’t know.
Yet so many books, upon introducing the reader (who is like the stranger in the restaurant) to the characters, blandly tells them the name.
I could write volumes about Gardens of the Moon by Stephen Erikson — specifically, about how awful it is. Here are the first and third paragraphs:
THE STAINS OF RUST SEEMED TO MAP BLOOD SEAS ON THE BLACK, pocked surface of Mock’s Vane. A century old, it squatted on the point of an old pike that had been bolted to the outer top of the Hold’s wall. Monstrous and misshapen, it had been cold-hammered into the form of a winged demon, teeth bared in a leering grin, and was tugged and buffeted in squealing protest with every gust of wind.
Ganoes Stabro Paran of the House of Paran stood on tiptoe to see over the merlon. Behind him rose Mock’s Hold, once capital of the Empire but now, since the mainland had been conquered, relegated once more to a Fist’s holding. To his left rose the pike and its wayward trophy.
I’ll give you a moment to recover from how face-blastingly awful the prose was there. If you need a pick-me-up, I recommend The Eye of Argon, which, while terrible, is at least coherent. If you require alcohol, I suggest the My Immortal Drinking Game.
How do we know Ganoes’ name? How do we know about the House of Paran? For that matter, how do we know that the weathervane (‘Mock’s Vane’, as you’d understand if you read the first paragraph six times like I did) has a name and is part of ‘Mock’s Hold’? Did he introduce himself to us?
This comment on Amazon, made in response to someone’s negative review, made me scratch my head (bolds mine):
In no offense to you, but your mind has gotten lazy. This is a book that actually requires a brain to read. Erikson does not hand you the information you need on a plate, he presents scenes as they would actually happen, as if you’re an observer just plopping down into it.
The weird thing is, the above bolded text describes my writing style exactly. For me, the reader is a newcomer who must see what’s going on and gather their own conclusions. If they don’t hear the barkeep’s name, he’ll just have to call him Barkeep.
Yet Gardens of the Moon includes pages and pages of dramatis personae, which I make it a policy to never read. Just in case you skip it, it blandly tells you this character’s full name the first time you see him. In a movie, we have to hear a name mentioned or see a text scroll introducing the character. Now, it might be that I believe novels should be cinematic, and I know people don’t always agree with that, but it’s worked pretty well for me so far.
You now Can’t Unsee this. Go open any novel and there’s a very good chance that a character will randomly be referred to by his name before we’ve had a chance to learn it ourselves.
What’s your opinion on learning a character’s name from the dialogue? As in, they’re barely introduced into the narrative and someone says “Oh, hey, Martin,” – or something to that extent – that serves no other purpose than to tell the audience Martin’s name? To me, that always seemed like lazy writing trying to pass itself off as simply mediocre writing.
I love when I see things like this pop up; they’re a sign that a noob writer has been educating him- or herself and is trying to do better. The problem is that they don’t get the nuance yet.
It’s hard to write a fast and dependable rule about this one; for me, it comes down to years of experience boiling down to instinct. I’d definitely advise that the character naming the person 1) have a reason to call them by their name, and 2) have something to say. Off the top of my head, here are some instances that could work well:
* A teacher calling a student in class.
* Shouting someone’s name to warn them of danger.
* Being announced before going out on stage.
* Being introduced to someone by a friend/introducing oneself.
Thanks for commenting; if you’re a writer (or a fellow Doctor Who fan), come hang out in the IRC channel!
I think this is a very nitpicky point. You call it a mistake. I call it a pet peeve.
Totally a pet peeve. That’s why, in the italicized disclaimer, I refer to it as such. I later call it a mistake because I consider it one (AUGH SEMANTICS).