If you’re ready to dive into the world of writing fiction -- I mean commercial fiction; I’ve seen many a brief that might also qualify -- a basic decision you’ve got to make at the start is the genre in which you’re writing. Genre simply defines the type of book you’ve written. It’s important because knowing the genre sets the tone for the reader. Mentally, a reader approaches a thriller differently than a romance. From a publisher’s standpoint, it has an even bigger meaning: It determines on which shelf the book will go at the bookstore. It can even drive the publisher’s decision whether to acquire a new novel in the first place, and it certainly is important in helping you target which publishers to submit to.
Genres generally break down this way:
· Commercial fiction: Basically a broad catch-all for fiction that doesn’t fit neatly into other genres, but books for which there is a wide readership potential. Think Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code.
· Crime fiction: Stories that revolve around the crime—caper stories, for example—and are often noirish or written from the viewpoint of the criminal. Think Elmore Leonard.
· Detective fiction: Once considered a sub-genre of mystery, this features private or police detective procedurals. Think Ed McBain, James Lee Burke, Robert Crais, Robert Parker.
· Fantasy: Usually involving the same types of elements as found in old legends and folk tales, often with past or future otherworldly settings. Think Lord of the Rings. Again, I sometimes think of briefs I have read.
· Horror: A combination of fantasy and terror, usually fast-paced and often invoking the use of the supernatural. Think Stephen King, Dean Koontz.
· Literary fiction: Can fit in any or all genres, but features the written word as art. Think Joyce Carol Oates, Ayn Rand.
· Mainstream: Another catch-all, novels that don’t fit other genres but which don’t have the same wide commercial appeal as those that would fall into the commercial category. Think Alice Sebold, Wally Lamb.
· Mystery: Mystery doesn’t really have a hard and fast definition. It’s the term that used to be applied to detective stories, but now seems to have a broader definition. At its most basic, it involves the solving of a crime by uncovering clues, ultimately leading to the unknown criminal. There are cozies, which usually involve an amateur sleuth and are somewhat milder in tone, language, and action, and hard-boiled, which usually involve a private eye or police detective and which tend to be more graphic in terms of violence, sex, and language. Think Sue Grafton, Agatha Christie, Mary Higgins Clark.
· Romance: Love stories, often formulaic, that can take on a number of sub-genres: historical romance, time travel romance, romantic suspense, Victorian romance, etc. Think Nora Roberts, Johanna Lindsey.
· Science fiction: This involves fiction arising out of the use of science or technology, often set in the future. Think Michael Crichton.
· Suspense: This crosses a broad range of genres, but always involves creating and maintaining suspense. Think Alfred Hitchcock.
· Thriller: Sometimes viewed as a sub-category of mystery or a hybrid of suspense, thrillers often involve a hunt or chase, usually with the protagonist or someone close to the protagonist placed in jeopardy. They can involve espionage, international intrigue, the medical or legal fields—or just about any other. The idea is that, where the mystery creates uncertainly and suspense, the thriller creates…well, thrills. Think Thomas Harris (Silence of the Lambs), James Patterson, John Grisham.
· Western: Tales of the old west, usually post-Civil War, and extending even into the early 1900s. Think Louis L’Amour, Zane Grey, Elmer Kelton.
· Women’s Fiction: A broad catch-all for books that largely appeal to women readers, but don’t fit into the romance category. They often feature strong female characters and are often told from a female point of view. Think Danielle Steele, Nicholas Sparks.
Mike Farris
(214) 979-0100
mfarris@tiptonjoneslaw.com
Showing posts with label Legal writers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Legal writers. Show all posts
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
BEYOND BRIEFS: Part Two
In my last entry on this topic, I raised the question of why you, as a lawyer, want to write. Assuming you’ve done the necessary soul-searching and you still want to, let me know alert you to some of the dangers you face. Dangers, I might add, that can be somewhat specific to lawyers.
Too wordy—Believe it or not, being a lawyer poses some disadvantages for you as you turn to other forms of writing fiction. Unfortunately, you’ve probably learned some habits in law school and in practice that you’ll have to overcome as you turn to the written word for the masses. After all, that’s who will be reading what you write, not other lawyers and judges. Fact is, most lawyers are not good writers.
I know what you’re thinking: “Moi, not a good writer? Surely you jest.”
Okay, let’s just see. In Texas, we have what’s known as a General Denial, which lawyers assert in defensive pleadings. The typical lawyer files a General Denial that reads like this: “Defendant generally denies each and every, all and singular, the material allegations in Plaintiff’s Original Petition and demands strict proof thereof.”
Sounds good, doesn’t it? Very lawyerly. Did you know that this would have worked just as well: “Defendant generally denies the allegations in Plaintiff’s Original Petition.” Nine words accomplished the same thing that twenty-one words accomplished in the preceding paragraph.
Let me run another one by you. You’re filing a pleading in a lawsuit and need to attach a document to the pleading as an exhibit. Most lawyers refer to the document, then write this: “A true and correct copy of the aforementioned document is attached hereto as Exhibit A and is incorporated herein by reference for all purposes the same as if fully set forth herein.”
Compare that to this: “A copy is attached as Exhibit A.” Seven words versus thirty-two—and you accomplished the same thing.
You’ve probably heard the expression “less is more;” well, it’s true. Unfortunately most lawyers write as if they’re being paid by the word instead of by the hour. The problem with that is that the meaning of what you’re saying can get lost in the avalanche of words, or the emotional impact can be diluted. Better to use fewer, but more direct and powerful, words. Where most lawyers tend to use three where one will suffice, as writers of fiction you need to get into the habit of doing just the opposite. Did you know that “null” means “void,” and “void” means “null”? You don’t have to say “null and void,” and you really don’t have to say “null and void, and without effect.”
Too technical—While we’re on the subject, let’s talk about another of my pet peeves with “lawyerly” writing and that’s the use of jargon where plain English not only will suffice but also will far surpass jargon. Jargon is okay, to a point. In writing fiction, you’ll want to sprinkle your dialogue and exposition with enough jargon to create an aura of authenticity around the world you have created on paper, but not so much that the reader either loses track of what you’re saying or becomes distracted. We all know that lawyers say things like “jurisdictional limits of the court,” and “limine” and “directed verdict,” but if your reader doesn’t understand what these mean, important plot points can get lost.
For an example of how this can work well, study the movie Body Heat. When you were in law school taking Property Law, did it ever occur to you that the Rule Against Perpetuities could ever form the key plot point in a major motion picture? But that’s exactly what screenwriter Lawrence Kasden did—and did it masterfully. The audience may not have known all the finer points of the Rule as articulated in the movie, but they understood generally that because of that rule, the will William Hurt drew up for Kathleen Turner's Husband was invalid and, as a result, she stood to inherit all of her husband’s wealth rather than share it with her niece. Result? Motive for murder.
Too autobiographical—Another problem is one shared by most new writers, not just lawyers: The story is too autobiographical. Yes, you are admonished to write what you know, and you certainly know your own life and your own cases. And, yes, your life is surely fascinating to you and your family, but that doesn’t mean your life and your cases are of any real interest to the rest of the world. That doesn’t mean that parts of your life can’t inspire or inform your stories, but you’ve got to view this as an outsider looking in would. Use events and people in your life to inspire your creative thinking, then put them in a world you know intimately—the world of law—but write fiction! Ultimately your creativity will likely be far more interesting to readers than your real life, hard as that may be to believe.
Too bombastic—Now, I’m treading lightly here because I know a lot of lawyers who think their writing is just brilliant because it sounds so…intelligent? You know, two-dollar, multi-syllable, “educated” words. After all, who isn’t more impressed with a letter that begins with “The Undersigned,” instead of “I”? I hate to be the bearer of bad news to you, but just as it’s better to use one word when you might otherwise want to use three, it’s better to use a two-cent word when you might want to use a two-dollar word. Why? It’s clearer and more to the point. And it just sounds better.
Oh, really? All right, let’s compare (with apologies to police officers everywhere). Which is better? I saw the car driving down the street; or I observed the vehicle proceeding down the boulevard.
I rest my case.
But there is an exception to this general rule against being less bombastic, and it applies to dialogue. Dialogue reveals character—so a snooty, pseudo-intellectual character’s dialogue may well be peppered with bombastic speech. Or a highly educated scientist who has very little social interaction may speak in almost undecipherable scientific language even when thrust out of his laboratory. I’m sure you can think of other examples yourself, but the point is that bombastic language has its uses.
Further on the subject the writer sayeth naught.
Mike Farris
(214) 979-0100
mfarris@tiptonjoneslaw.com
Too wordy—Believe it or not, being a lawyer poses some disadvantages for you as you turn to other forms of writing fiction. Unfortunately, you’ve probably learned some habits in law school and in practice that you’ll have to overcome as you turn to the written word for the masses. After all, that’s who will be reading what you write, not other lawyers and judges. Fact is, most lawyers are not good writers.
I know what you’re thinking: “Moi, not a good writer? Surely you jest.”
Okay, let’s just see. In Texas, we have what’s known as a General Denial, which lawyers assert in defensive pleadings. The typical lawyer files a General Denial that reads like this: “Defendant generally denies each and every, all and singular, the material allegations in Plaintiff’s Original Petition and demands strict proof thereof.”
Sounds good, doesn’t it? Very lawyerly. Did you know that this would have worked just as well: “Defendant generally denies the allegations in Plaintiff’s Original Petition.” Nine words accomplished the same thing that twenty-one words accomplished in the preceding paragraph.
Let me run another one by you. You’re filing a pleading in a lawsuit and need to attach a document to the pleading as an exhibit. Most lawyers refer to the document, then write this: “A true and correct copy of the aforementioned document is attached hereto as Exhibit A and is incorporated herein by reference for all purposes the same as if fully set forth herein.”
Compare that to this: “A copy is attached as Exhibit A.” Seven words versus thirty-two—and you accomplished the same thing.
You’ve probably heard the expression “less is more;” well, it’s true. Unfortunately most lawyers write as if they’re being paid by the word instead of by the hour. The problem with that is that the meaning of what you’re saying can get lost in the avalanche of words, or the emotional impact can be diluted. Better to use fewer, but more direct and powerful, words. Where most lawyers tend to use three where one will suffice, as writers of fiction you need to get into the habit of doing just the opposite. Did you know that “null” means “void,” and “void” means “null”? You don’t have to say “null and void,” and you really don’t have to say “null and void, and without effect.”
Too technical—While we’re on the subject, let’s talk about another of my pet peeves with “lawyerly” writing and that’s the use of jargon where plain English not only will suffice but also will far surpass jargon. Jargon is okay, to a point. In writing fiction, you’ll want to sprinkle your dialogue and exposition with enough jargon to create an aura of authenticity around the world you have created on paper, but not so much that the reader either loses track of what you’re saying or becomes distracted. We all know that lawyers say things like “jurisdictional limits of the court,” and “limine” and “directed verdict,” but if your reader doesn’t understand what these mean, important plot points can get lost.
For an example of how this can work well, study the movie Body Heat. When you were in law school taking Property Law, did it ever occur to you that the Rule Against Perpetuities could ever form the key plot point in a major motion picture? But that’s exactly what screenwriter Lawrence Kasden did—and did it masterfully. The audience may not have known all the finer points of the Rule as articulated in the movie, but they understood generally that because of that rule, the will William Hurt drew up for Kathleen Turner's Husband was invalid and, as a result, she stood to inherit all of her husband’s wealth rather than share it with her niece. Result? Motive for murder.
Too autobiographical—Another problem is one shared by most new writers, not just lawyers: The story is too autobiographical. Yes, you are admonished to write what you know, and you certainly know your own life and your own cases. And, yes, your life is surely fascinating to you and your family, but that doesn’t mean your life and your cases are of any real interest to the rest of the world. That doesn’t mean that parts of your life can’t inspire or inform your stories, but you’ve got to view this as an outsider looking in would. Use events and people in your life to inspire your creative thinking, then put them in a world you know intimately—the world of law—but write fiction! Ultimately your creativity will likely be far more interesting to readers than your real life, hard as that may be to believe.
Too bombastic—Now, I’m treading lightly here because I know a lot of lawyers who think their writing is just brilliant because it sounds so…intelligent? You know, two-dollar, multi-syllable, “educated” words. After all, who isn’t more impressed with a letter that begins with “The Undersigned,” instead of “I”? I hate to be the bearer of bad news to you, but just as it’s better to use one word when you might otherwise want to use three, it’s better to use a two-cent word when you might want to use a two-dollar word. Why? It’s clearer and more to the point. And it just sounds better.
Oh, really? All right, let’s compare (with apologies to police officers everywhere). Which is better? I saw the car driving down the street; or I observed the vehicle proceeding down the boulevard.
I rest my case.
But there is an exception to this general rule against being less bombastic, and it applies to dialogue. Dialogue reveals character—so a snooty, pseudo-intellectual character’s dialogue may well be peppered with bombastic speech. Or a highly educated scientist who has very little social interaction may speak in almost undecipherable scientific language even when thrust out of his laboratory. I’m sure you can think of other examples yourself, but the point is that bombastic language has its uses.
Further on the subject the writer sayeth naught.
Mike Farris
(214) 979-0100
mfarris@tiptonjoneslaw.com
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