This.

I don’t have a problem with the whole list. There’s some good stuff there. But, believe you me, it has problems.

Now, while I have an issue, as a reader, with #2 (Never use prologues, he says. I like reading prologues, I say.), the issue I have the biggest problem with is #3 – Never use any word other than “said” to carry dialogue. Of course, this also brings in #4, as well, where you never use an adverb with “said”.

For the record, back before I ever put pen to paper, I read a dialogue heavy novel and realized how powerful a tool dialogue could be. I also realized that “said” could be replaced by dozens of other alternatives, helpfully supplied by the English Language, that all have more details attached to them. “Whispered” meant something was said quietly. “Hissed” had a serpentine aspect, if you wanted to imply deception or evil intent. “Bellowed,” denoted a boisterous personality, noisy, oblivious, and happy. “Shot back,” meant your character was being antagonistic with their response, even if the words themselves were polite. I could go on and on, but my point is that an alternative to “said” could hand your reader information about the character and their emotions without ever having to break dialogue. I consider this to be an efficiency of words, and something a good writer would do well to develop.

In the foolishness of youth, I reached the conclusion that you should never, ever, use the word “said”, because there was always a better alternative. Now, obviously, I don’t believe that anymore. But it’s a stylistic choice. My fantasy novel makes liberal use of alternatives to “said.” My more mainstream, “quick and dirty” web-serial, 1001 Insomniac Nights, uses primarily “said,” with the occasional “replied” and “sneered” to break up the monotony.

“Said”, as my wife relayed to me from her friend, is invisible. It’s like water. It’s useful, but it carries no weight. The alternatives, generously supplied to us by the language itself, have substance of their own.

Seriously, synonyms are one of the English language’s strengths. We’d be fools not to use them.

Now, I also protest to only using “said” because sometimes the work itself insists you use something else. Prose has a rhythm, a distinctive and insistent rhythm. And I listen to this rhythm, because it defines my writing. Too many times, a line simply hasn’t read right with just the word “said.” “Answered” was simply necessary for the flow of the paragraph.

I refuse to believe that our society has fallen so far that even in our dialogue we have to use a one syllable word above all others. I refuse to believe that using “blurted out” instead of “said” will confuse my reader.

And now, the fun part: Proving my point.

Let’s say I’m writing a scene where I have two characters standing in a crowded hall. One of them says to the other, “Who is that tart with the King?” Now, if I just write, “Beatrice said, ‘Who is that tart with the King?’” I tell my reader that she just blithely blurts that out. This leaves her open to being overheard, leading to possible intrigue and accusations of treason. Now, obviously, a sane person would say this under her breath. But is Beatrice sane? What if she’s the first sane person we’ve met in the novel? What if you just met her? What if she’s sane, but she ranks higher than the King, or has some black-mail on the King, and wants to show it off? Or maybe the point is that the kingdom is particularly lax and no-one cares if someone bad-mouths the King’s fling-of-the-week. These are questions that an intelligent reader will be wondering, upon reading that Beatrice speaks without bothering to muffle her voice.

“Ah ha!” says I. “I have to let my reader know that she’s sane, she doesn’t have naked pictures of the King, and speaking out of turn is not kosher.” Therefore, I have to imply that she pitches her voice low. I’d love to make this easy and say, “Beatrice whispered, ‘Who is that tart with the King?’” But I have to contend with Rule #3. So what about “Beatrice said quietly, ‘Who is that tart with the King.’” But wait! that violates the almighty rule #4. So what about, “Beatrice said, her voice pitched too low for any but Hero to hear, ‘Who is that tart with the King?’” There we go! And I only had to use eleven more words to accomplish that than if I had simply been willing to violate the almighty rule #3! What an accomplishment!

Wait! Maybe I should have used physical actions to imply that she’s whispering? What about, “Beatrice nudged Hero gently with her elbow and said, ‘Who is that tart with the King?’” That works. The action of nudging with the elbow implies exchanging a secret, keeping her voice low. Or maybe even, “Beatrice leaned close to Hero’s ear, cupping her hand over her mouth, and said, “Who is that tart with the King?” That works too! There’s no question she’s attempting to hide her words.

Of course, both these actions are implied with the word, “whispered.” And I’m still using at least seven more words. So, no, that’s not better.

Seriously, do I have to cite more examples? I’m not even going to bother getting into double entendres or words, like the rarely used “thanks”, that can be said with different inflections. Because it’s not like people have ever mistaken a person’s meaning on live-journals or instant messages because of a lack of tone of voice. It’s not like emoticons weren’t brought into existence so people could tell the difference between malicious and facetious. Oh, wait…

Look, I get it. Sometimes “said” is simple, concise, and and therefore perfect. I understand. I use it, often, for that very reason. But to imply that an author practicing intelligent word conservation is somehow flawed or amateurish because they’re trying to streamline their work? That’s just stupid.

The question of “What use does literature serve?” isn’t a new one. Back in 1579, Sir Philip Sidney wrote “In Defense of Poesy”, an argument for the virtue of fictional literature. Because pre-dating that time, it was seen simply as fluffy entertainment, of no real value in and of itself.

My, how things have changed.

Still, if you’re not working on “high” art, you sometimes find yourself having to justify the relevancy of what you’re working on. Sometimes, “entertaining” simply isn’t enough. I remember going rounds in high school with a friend of mine over this, especially since I was working in a fantasy novel at the time, and he was challenging me as to why he should take it seriously.

I don’t know if I ever really produced an answer that satisfied him. Or that satisfied me, for that matter.

I saw a poster in high school that always resonated with me. It said, roughly paraphrased: “I read to see that I am not alone. And I write to show others that they are not alone.” At the time, I was a properly angsty, emo teenager and I instantly realized why I had been drawn to so many of the books I had been reading, that as I read through them, the author shared something with me and, somehow, made me feel not alone.

As a writer, I feel I have acquitted myself well on that score, at least concerning 1001Insomniac Nights . (Which if you’re not reading it, you SHOULD.) And when I write fantasy, I hope that I am giving my readers a reflection of the world, that I am giving them something to think about. I don’t know if I succeed, although simply telling a good yarn is usually satisfactory.

My epiphany, however, concerns science-fiction.

Now, this is one genre that, since high-school and reading Fahrenheit 451, I realized would never need to justify itself. Science-fiction is modern prophecy, a warning. “If you continue on this path, this is where you will end up.” The whole cyberpunk sub-genre is a critique of 80′s culture. Go back and read Brave New World and see if you don’t feel a shiver go down your spine when you realize just how close we are to becoming that hedonistic, self-centered, amoral world.

But even on top of that, there is the inspirational factor, and that was my epiphany. Science-fiction points to the sky and asks you, “Why not?” It paints a future of interstellar travel and other life and challenges you, challenges the whole human race, to make that future a reality. And really, that’s all the justification it needs. If Star Trek pseudo-science makes a child interested in interplanetary travel, if that child is then drawn to sciences in school, and if that child then grows up and figures out how to construct a nuclear-fusion based engine that gets us to near light-speed and a probe to Alpha Centauri in six-years, hasn’t it justified itself? And with the Constellation program now cut, this inspiration just became even more important.

Of course, can’t this inspiration be found in all genres? That’s the crux of Sidney’s argument – that fiction can inspire a person to virtue. Human advancement and development has always been pushed by inspiration. And if a fantasy can inspire a person to seek to make the world a better place, this isn’t that justification enough?

And sure enough, there’s a new wiki-page. New because there was already a wiki-page in 2003 or 2004-ish, thanks to an enterprising friend of mine, which mentioned that I exist. But I digress.

Anyway, so on said wiki-page, there’s links to web-pages that are devoted to reviewing and linking web-serials.

So I go to the first two, I’m sure there’s more to find and I’ll do that some other night, and of course I submit my web-serial to be approved to be linked.

But it’s dumb-founding, to be honest. When I first started 1k1in, there was nothing on ‘net about web-serials. I think there was one other that popped up around the same time. But for the most part, no one had heard of, nor read, a web-serial. And now, seven years later, it’s here. Wiki pages, web-serials, reviewers, everything. Where the hell was everyone, seven years ago.

This was the lesson Holly taught me, in all her passion and charm. When I was writing 1001 Insomniac Nights, Holly was my favorite character. And in the end, she was the favorite characters of my readers, too. When you love a character, it will come out in your writing, and your reader cannot help but love them, too.

Who is Holly? Well, for starters, she’s the hot-tempered manager of the local Baskin Robbins. She does not suffer fools lightly and occasionally acts without really thinking through the consequences. But she has the confidence, and personality, to pull it off. She also won’t hesitate to toss an ice-cream cone at you, if you really, really deserve it.

Okay, now that that’s out of the way, I had an epiphany a few days ago. It was the realization that one of 1001 Insomniac Nights‘ strengths is, if you’ll forgive me a little preening, the myriad of funny one-liners. I’m fairly sure I can find at least good one in every post. So sure, in fact, that I’m going to start a little weekly advertising tradition.

Every Friday morning, after the weekly post goes up, I’m going to “tweet” my favorite one-liner in the story along with a link to the post. And if you like the one liner, or the post, or just the web-serial in general, “re-tweet” the one liner. And if you find a line in there you like more, well, tweet that one instead.

I’m a firm believer in “word of mouth” advertising. Almost every book I ever loved was recommended to me by a friend first. And I’m hoping that people will like 1001 Insomniac Nights enough to recommend it to friends.

So – If you love it, re-tweet it.

This was brought to my attention. It’s a the story of a mid-list author who was almost more, who only sold 10,000 copies of a book that, 10 years later, was still being brought to readings by people telling her how much it changed their lives. It’s about her almost success and the fight to survive as a writer afterward. It’s a must read for any and all aspiring authors. It’s brilliant, informative, and eye-opening. And utterly, utterly heart-breaking.

Even a day later, it’s still haunting me. Trying to sort out my thoughts on the article is like trying catch a cloud. It raises questions, and good ones, about the fate of publishing, the fate of mid-list authors.

I’ve often theorized that publishing is such a bitter industry because every agent and editor has had their heart broken at least once. That they’ve all found a book they loved, found one that they got printed, but watched crash and burn as society yawned and kept going. And I do think that’s why publishers are often so afraid to take risks. Because they’ve all seen sure-fire best-sellers go nowhere. And too many grand slams have come out of nowhere, that no one could have guessed would succeed.

It’s a little disheartening, but at the same time, it’s a bit of a healthy reality check. Everyone has always warned me that writing, and any of the arts, is a mean, mean industry.

That was 1001 Insomniac Nights. And at the time, it was the only web-serial of its kind. A series of posts that could stand on their own but made an ongoing novel when completed, it was a first. And something I was very proud of. In 2004, with updates having ended over a year previous, we called it quits. But not before the ending was written, but never posted.

This is the resurrection, the return of a concept that may have been born before the ‘net was ready. This is 1001 Insomniac Nights, or 1k1in as it came to be known, ready for another go at it. I invite you to sit down, kick your feet up, and explore an ever so slightly deraganged world through the eyes of a character that I’ve grown to love as he revealed himself to me. A world populated by vampire hunters, gurus who work for drinks, and a dramatic roommate who might be just a little more than anyone ever gave him credit for.

~MaAS