Tag: editing

Review: Dictionary.com’s “Writing Dynamo” program

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 If you’re on Thesaurus.com (owned by Dictionary.com) as much as I am, you’ve probably seen their Writing Dynamo program advertised. Tagged “Your personal writing coach,” the program professes itself to be “Accurate, effective, web-based proofreading.”

Were you excited?

I was.

Thesaurus.com is hands down better than MS Word’s synonym tool, so why shouldn’t they be better at everything else? Especially if they charge you for it every month! It even says it tests for overused expressions, sentence length and voice!

I signed up for the free trial to find out. I only played around with it for an hour or so, but here’s what I found out.

Disclaimer: It looks like the program was designed for students writing essays, not for fiction writers. But I only tested it on fiction. Take it as you like.

What it looks like.

What it looks like.

Problems

  • Can’t handle large text – it won’t offer feedback on much more than 3,000 words at a time.
  • “Upload Text” button didn’t work – the window popped up, but none of my documents were even visible.
  • Small writing area – the text box is kind of small and not adjustable.
  • Useless dictionary – The spell-checker flagged foreign/made-up words (like MS Word would), but when I clicked “Add to Dictionary” the red underline disappeared on that instance of the word only. Where the word appeared elsewhere in the text, it was still flagged.
  • Didn’t flag all of the foreign/made up words, which indicates it might not catch all misspellings, either.
  • Set to American English – and I couldn’t see a way to switch it to British English.
  • Flagged em dashes as spelling errors.
  • Flagged sentences longer than seventeen words – which could encourage you to be more concise, but there’s no law against eighteen-word sentences.
  • Suggested changing “would have” to “had.” Wrong!
  • Sometimes gave false apostrophe corrections – telling me plurals should be possessives and vice versa (don’t people have enough trouble with this already?!?)
Closeup of the sidebar.

Closeup of the sidebar.

It called the em dash a spelling error.

It called the em dash a spelling error.

The Best Part

It flagged words repeated in close proximity. If I used the same word twice—or even two words with the same root – within a few sentences, it flagged both and offered a synonym suggestion. It’s a pretty useful feature; one MS Word doesn’t offer. Wordle can help you identify words you use too often, but not at this level.

Quick tips appear beneath the sidebar.

Quick tips appear beneath the sidebar.

Conclusion                                                                                      

It didn’t live up to “accurate,” and I don’t know what parameters it uses to judge voice, but I don’t think the world has yet seen software sophisticated enough to judge voice as we define it.

Don’t use Writing Dynamo if you don’t already have a solid grasp on grammar and punctuation; you’re likely to get led astray by false flags. But if you just want a second pair of eyes – particularly for repeated words – this program is worth the free trial and possibly a one-month subscription ($4.99). I’d suggest waiting until your story/book is in its final editing stages, sign up, edit 3,000 words at a time, and then cancel your subscription.

However, the program is fairly new and they are accepting feedback, so they may improve it. I’ll keep you posted if I learn anything.

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6 steps to judging your own writing

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When the pages are closing in on you. [image by Thanakrit Du]

When the pages are closing in on you. [image by Thanakrit Du]

You’ve been working on your novel for so long, you no longer know what’s good and what’s bad. You can’t tell whether the tone is right, the pacing is fast enough, or the characters are believable. All you can see is a swarm of words.

You either think it’s all wonderful (you’re wrong) or it’s all terrible (you’re wrong).

And when it comes to editing, with or without beta readers, you’ll have to make your own decisions at some point.

So is it possible to look at your own work with complete impartiality?

Well, no. But with the right preparation, you can get close.

  1. Step away from the novel. Don’t even look at it for at least a month. Work on something different (NOT the sequel).
  1. Feed the machine. In that same month, read some classics and award-winners. Avoid the “guilty pleasure” books that are horribly written but that you love anyway – those are for another time. Get your brain used to the good stuff so it can recognize the bad stuff (like eating McDonald’s after months of home-cooked meals, it stays with you in a nasty way).
  1. Feed the machine some more. Also re-watch some of your favorite movies – being shorter than books, they more clearly show the plot as a whole. Note how each story is structured. How does it open? How does the tension escalate? How does the hero reach his lowest point? What ultimate decision does he make?
  1. Review. Read good books and/or movie reviews, especially ones that point out plot faults. This will help you identify problems in your own work. For instance:
    1. David’s amazingly insightful reviews at Twilight’s Warden
    2. The hilarious animated video series How It Should Have Ended
    3. The brilliant (though horribly crass, so be warned) reviews at Red Letter Media (I’ve only watched the Star Wars ones)
  1. Tell your ego to shut up. We writers have a tendency to waver between extremes of pretentiousness (“They just don’t understand my brilliance!”) and anxiety (“They’re going to think I’m an idiot.”). Tune out both these voices. Neither is truthful.
  • For the pretentious voice: Let go of the things you refused to change before. Pretty paragraphs you refused to delete. Lovable characters you refused to kill. Look at those “non-negotiables” and ask why? If you don’t have a real reason (e.g., “to be edgy” is not a real reason to be gratuitous), then change it. There are many ways a story can play out, and there’s probably a much more exciting and meaningful way yours can.
  • For the anxious voice: Every good writer is scared when he releases something new into the world. That’s normal. But ask yourself: does a certain part scare you—a certain phrase or scene? Does it scare you because it sounds juvenile, or because it exposes a piece of you? If the former, change it. If the latter, have the courage to leave it.
  1. Create a deleted scenes file. You know you should cut something—but it’s also pretty good writing; what if you need it somewhere else later? Don’t be paralyzed by uncertainty. Simply copy, cut and paste any major deletions into a new file. Soon you’ll have a much cleaner manuscript and a whole list of ideas to fall back on should you ever need it.

What part of self-editing gives you the most trouble?

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Should you write for yourself, or for other people?

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Image by AntToeKnee. Check out his profile to read his hilarious bio.

When you sit down to write, who are you writing for? Are you writing only for your own amusement (or catharsis?), or to entertain other people? And which is right?

If you write only to please yourself, you’re in danger of contracting Ugly Baby Syndrome—thinking your creation is perfect no matter what anyone else says. If they don’t like it, you are personally offended. If they say pages full of poetic scenic description are boring, you say they are uncultured swine. You throw a little pity party because nobody understands your unique method of expression.

Well, you’re right. Nobody understands you because you’re not explaining yourself well.

Here’s the tough truth: being unique doesn’t make you good. You may be expressing yourself, but you are refusing to express yourself in a language anyone else understands. You are being selfish. If you want to be understood, you have to speak to them in their language first. Start where you have common ground. That means putting the story—its integrity, pace, and structure—above your pretty-words ego.

If you write only to please people, well, you’ll become a people-pleaser. A sellout.The irony is that this is another form of selfishness. You’re really writing for the attention, the prestige, the money. As soon as you find something most people seem to like, you’ll just keep writing that same story over and over again—change the names and the settings, but the same plot every time. You don’t dare to be different. You don’t dare to write the truth about your own life and struggles and the hard things you’ve learned. You turn into a formula fiction factory. On your new book cover, your name is larger than the title because people already know what’s in any story you write. You’ve stopped being an artist. You have ceased to express yourself. You are not telling the world anything it doesn’t already know.

So what’s the answer?

Write for yourself. Edit for your audience.

Maggie pointed this out in the comments of this post.

When you pour out that first and second draft, write what you enjoy. Write the kind of story you love to read. Write who you are in the grittiest, nakedest way. Write what you want to say to the world.

The ironic result is that a lot of other people probably love what you love. A lot of them have felt what you have felt. What you write could appeal to them on a deep level.

When you move on into the rewriting and editing stages, have them first in mind. You expressed yourself. Now, translate that expression. Help your audience understand you, and help them have a good time of it. Put the story above your ego. That means showing truth, not preaching it. It means cutting out extraneous drabble; letting go of your sentimental attachments if they don’t support the story. If you are in love with an unnecessary character, or you adore a setting that hinders the plot, or you’re attached to a line of dialogue a character would never say, cut it out!

Your writing ability should serve the story, not the other way around. First the truth-telling. Then the truth-translating.

That’s how to create something both you and your audience will love.

 

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 What sentimental attachments do you have to detrimental elements of your work? What truths are you afraid might offend people?

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What Happened to George Lucas?

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babies dressed as princess leia and obi wan

Image by Steve Winton

Jar Jar Binks did not ruin Star Wars.

Actually, I found Jar Jar amusing. But there’s a reason I put it on my “If I Ever Get Filthy Rich” to-do list to buy the rights to Star Wars so I can completely remake the prequels:

George Lucas ruined Star Wars.

Now, let’s not harp on the guy. He obviously didn’t mean to ruin Star Wars. So what went wrong?

And how do the rest of us avoid doing the same thing?

Obviously, the specific errors are too many to list – from the overuse of CGI to the nonsensical plot – but it all boils down to two general problems:

  1. He knew the originals were good, but he didn’t know why.
  2. Rather than taking the time to figure out why, he opted to start making money NOW through the prequels.

The meat was what made Star Wars great—the characters; the story. Lucas didn’t take the time to understand either of those things. Maybe he was lazy, or impatient, or afraid to fall whilst leaping for greatness. But all he managed to do was copy the occasional catchphrase and the droids’ comic relief, and set up a few scenes to mirror scenes in the originals (whether or not it made plot sense). But all these things are just accessories—they make the story better only when the story is already good. When the story isn’t good, they just aggravate the gag reflex.

Here are the major character errors Lucas committed. If he had taken the time to understand and develop the characters, the plot would have formed itself.

No clear protagonist

Who is the hero of the new trilogy? You know, the Average Joe to whom all the weird stuff is explained (and thus explained to us); the guy we like and root for?

  • Is it Anakin? But we don’t even meet him until 32 minutes into the first movie (which itself is only two hours and change). And even then, he doesn’t know what’s going on until movie two.
  • Is it Obi Wan? He’s on screen a lot, but we don’t get an inside look at his motives or emotions.

Our lesson: Know who your hero is. Introduce him early. Ensure he is likeable.

Role reversals

  • Movie one: Master Qui Gon recklessly gambles with someone else’s ship, while his young apprentice, Obi Wan, sits by wisely questioning his choices.
  • Movie two: Obi Wan switches to the reckless master position: after telling Anakin to think before he acts, Obi Wan promptly crashes through a window to grab onto an assassin droid that really doesn’t look like it can support his weight – and Anakin’s the one to rescue him.
  • Amidala resists a romantic relationship just because she’s in politics, while Anakin, who’s been brainwashed to reject romance for the last ten years of his life, is hitting on her from the very first moment
  • And why does she show all that skin if she wants to keep things professional?

Our lesson: Make a list of the major actions in your story, who performs those actions, and what their motives were. Does it make sense, or do you need to swap some things around?

No personalities

The original trilogy abounded in distinct personalities.

  • Luke Skywalker: sheltered, idealistic, brave.
  • Han Solo: roguish, jaded, heart of gold.
  • Princess Leia: smart, stubborn, caring.

The new trilogy, however…

  • Anakin Skywalker: uh…whiny, homicidal, stalker-ish?
  • Obi Wan Kenobi: doesn’t seem to know who he is (see above).
  • Queen/Senator Amidala: uh. Nondescript?

Our lesson: Can you describe your main characters without mentioning their appearance or occupation? If not, you’ve got work to do.

Shallow romance

Why do Anakin and Amidala fall in love? Aside from the fact that they are both good looking, and they get shot at together a couple times, there is no foundation for Amidala telling Anakin “I truly, deeply, love you.” I mean, Amidala’s been dealing with galactic politics since she was 14—why is she attracted to this kid who complains about his teachers being too strict?

Our lesson: If your story includes romance, ask yourself what, particularly, makes those two characters suited to each other? Find something in their personalities that’s complementary.

Contradicting ideals

Lucas contradicts not only the facts of the story (for instance, according to the original trilogy, Anakin never knew Amidala was pregnant), but the ideals. We go from Yoda telling Luke that “War does not make one great” to Obi Wan telling Anakin of his lightsaber that “This weapon is your life.”

Our lesson: Know what ideals your characters hold, and check that their actions and dialogue match those ideals.

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What bothered you the most about the new Star Wars trilogy? What did you like about it?

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NOTE: I owe many of the points in this post to Red Letter Media’s Star Wars reviews, which are horribly inappropriate—but annoyingly insightful.

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