Before I begin, I want to include a short personal note about goals. Last year I revived my writing group in September and after a successful first meeting I set myself a goal to write one short story per month, each month, from October 2021 through September 2022. We are now halfway there, and I’m pleased to say I have completed five drafts with a sixth almost complete and if I can complete it today I will be on track with six drafts in six months. This is the most successful non–Shelf Life streak so I just wanted to brag.
Regarding today’s title, “Idioms for Idiots” has a nicer ring but it is a well-established fact that Shelf Life readers are more than usually intelligent (and attractive) so I had to go with a less-catchy but more-truthful title. Also, never insult your readers to their face, that writing advice is free.
More free writing advice: If you write a lot of angry political screeds barely disguised as speculative fiction—or anything with sex scenes—know that someone in your family will eventually want to read something you’ve written. You should prepare a decoy story now, in advance, for this inevitable situation. If you need me I will be working on a new manuscript, “The Modest Young Woman and Her Very Ordinary Day” dot docx. “An absolutely blameless narrative, fit only for public consumption,” raves my friend Kat.
Actually, all the advice (writing and otherwise) in Shelf Life is free. It’s the dubious quality that gets you.
Right, idioms. One day soon I’ll do an article on creating custom idioms for spec fic because that sounds fun to write, but this is not that article. This is a different article about idioms. It’s also not an article about what idioms are in the context of human language and communication. It’s yet another article about idioms. This is a less useful article on idioms than either of those. But it’s the article I’ve got.
Today I’m going to share some English idioms to keep in mind while writing, editing, or publishing your work because they have true wisdom to offer on those subjects. I’ll explain the true wisdom, I won’t just say the idiom and then sign off for the day, that would be a poor excuse for a Shelf Life. Just a long list of idioms. That would, indeed, be idioms for idiots. Nobody would read that.
An Empty Well, Actually
Sorry, I couldn’t resist. The word well is always made funnier (when used ironically) or more infuriating (when used unironically) by the proximity of the word actually. I don’t make the rules.
The full idiom is, “don’t throw your bucket in an empty well,” meaning, to do something in vain, failing to achieve the desired result, specifically because the desired result is impossible to achieve. If you toss your bucket into an empty well, you’re not going to get any water. This is in the same family as—but slightly different than—“to get blood from a stone” (which usually refers to trying to get something from a person). In both cases, you can’t get what you’re after because it’s not there to get.
The empty well metaphor has a lot of practical applications for writing. Started working on something but the idea led nowhere and you can’t seem to make it go anywhere? This idea well’s empty, put the story aside and move to another idea well. (Fact: When I have an “unsolvable” writing problem, it gets solved from the backburner like 99 percent of the time.) Sent your manuscript or book out there into the world and nobody’s biting? Maybe that well (market) has no water (available readers) right now.
Fun fact: Wells can recharge, even aquifers, if the demand for their water drops below the rate at which they recharge from rainfall over time. Whatever well you threw your bucket into that came up empty, let it recharge for a bit without putting further demands on it and it is very likely to refill.
A Book By Its Cover
This is like my favorite idiom because it’s patently ridiculous. The idea is that you should not judge a book by its cover, because something with a beautiful exterior may be rotten inside, while something with an unappealing exterior may be a gem within. Okay obviously this is true, like if you think about it human beings are often beautiful on the outside but inside we’re all blood and viscera, it’s very gross in there. Don’t get me started on the abdominal cavity.
I don’t know why this idiom references book covers, which exist for the sole purpose of convincing you that what’s inside is something you will like. This idiom, as currently written, should mean something more like “don’t be susceptible to targeted marketing.” Plus, you should judge a book by at least some parts of its cover, like the synopsis (if the cover includes one).
Phrases become idiomatic because people need to be reminded. People need to be reminded to “never judge a book by its cover” because that is our natural instinct. People are predisposed to judge a book by its cover; specifically, people are predisposed to judge your book by its cover. If you’re self-publishing, don’t skimp on your cover. If you’re sending out queries, or sending out stories, or whatever, make sure the presentation is correct—follow manuscript formatting guidance when it’s available, and follow instructions for submitting, querying, and so on.
Do not fool yourself that people will see past poor presentation and appreciate the gem within. If we are talking books, manuscripts, stories—there is an ocean of them. People can’t crack open every oyster to see if there’s a pearl inside. Presentation matters.
Long Story Short
To “make a long story short” is barely an idiom; it’s used idiomatically but it’s exactly what it says on the tin. Tell the story you’re trying to tell but with fewer words. Take your long story (with all the details and sidebars and tangential comments) and make it short (just the facts, ma’am). Why did this idiom develop? Because people in general (and me in particular) have a tendency to include more detail in telling stories than is necessary. How much is necessary? What is the correct amount? Well that’s a matter of taste.
Detail is not a bad thing. Extraneous detail, however, is the bad kind of detail. Detail that doesn’t support the plot or the subplots—and is neither an intentional red herring—distracts the reader. You’re asking them to remember details that they don’t need for the purpose of understanding the story; they can’t know, as they read, what details they need to retain and which can be safely discarded. It’s your job, as the writer, to know that and to include only details that support and no details that detract (unless you are intentionally trying to mislead, which is a valid writing tactic).
Is there too much emphasis on the supremacy of conciseness and lean writing? I say yes there is. However, going too far in the other direction and letting your writing follow your inner monologue wherever it may go is not the way, either. That’s how you get Finnegans Wake. The world does not need another Finnegans Wake. One is already too many.
Worth a Thousand Words
A picture is worth a thousand words, right? That’s why a picture book is usually 32 pages, that’s like 32,000 words which is really a tremendous amount for a young child to read. The Stranger by Albert Camus is only 36,000 words long. Baby’s First War and Peace. Aujourd’hui, maman m’aime vers la Lune aller retour. Okay that’s a deep cut and my French is poor. I only took like eighteen years of it during the four years I was in college. I hope literally anyone finds that funny.
If you have young children and a love for existentialist literature and speak a small amount of French, this joke’s for you.
This idiom is one of the best for writers: A picture is worth a thousand words. Or, as we’ve heard in every writing workshop we’ve ever been to, “show don’t tell.”
Not everything needs to be shown and not told. That is a myth. You need to do a mix of showing and telling or you’ll have a nonstop parade of images with no introspection. The thing is, it actually takes fewer words to show certain things than tell them. For instance, you could go into great detail about someone being angry and what their mental process was and what is whirring around in their mind spinning up that anger, or you could describe them as shaking with rage.
Here’s a rule of thumb to use “a picture is worth a thousand words” in your writing: If you’re having a hard time explaining something concisely, if you find you’re spinning out a lot of words to get the nuance down accurately, try a description instead.
The Devil’s Advocate
A lot of villains don’t stand up to scrutiny. I talked about this in detail in ancient Shelf Life article Unforgettable Villainy, which you definitely should read if you ever have these problems. Sometimes we create villains to fill the protagonist’s need for a villain. Their motivations don’t feel fully fleshed out, their actions and words don’t feel authentic. Your story needed an antagonist so you made one, but if they’re not all the way up to snuff I have a trick for making them better.
You know who nobody ever likes? The devil’s advocate. No one in the history of everyone has ever been having a conversation and said, “You know who we really need right now? That guy who loves to take the unpopular side that everybody already understands and doesn’t need a lesson on, and argues it for the sake of arguing.” Listen, never be that guy. Nobody likes that guy.
However, if you need a safe space to satisfy your desire to be that guy, try on the role of your villain’s advocate for size. Pretend you are at a bar with your friends in the world of your story, and your friends are all talking about how awful the villain is, like what an evil and horrible person, and you are that guy so you jump in with a. . . .
Wait for it. . . .
With a “well actually”. . . .
And then you do that super annoying thing where you explain what you think the villain’s motivations are and how, in the villain’s own mind, the villain is right and justified. You know, just for argument’s sake. Whatever crock of bullcookies you come up with, that’s how your villain thinks of themself. They are the hero of the story (or at worst a necessary evil) in their own mind.
Can’t Make an Omelet
Finally: You can make an omelet without breaking a few eggs. What even is a good book if not an omelet? An omelet is a filling, satisfying, yummy, and often healthy breakfast. You want your book to be like an omelet: Fulfilling, satisfying, enjoyable, and maybe meaningful to your reader. And just like you can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs, you can’t tell a great story without killing a few darlings. (Note: This is not actually what killing one’s darlings means.)
Why not? Well, because stakes. (Stakes and eggs. Oh my god, stake and eggs. Somebody write that down.) For a story to be engaging, there must be stakes. Something must be risked. Every character in the story who has agency—anyone who is acting, whether of their own free will or under duress—puts something at risk. They have something to lose or gain. The protagonist, the antagonist, the supporting characters, everybody has some stake in the action.
A story in which the only people who suffer consequences—who lose what they have risked—for their actions are the bad guys, and the good guys lose nothing in the process, is hollow. Some eggs have to get broken somewhere in the story if you want to write an omelet: Like if you start with a half dozen eggs in a carton and at the end you wrap up with a half dozen eggs still in the carton—what was the point? Unless three eggs were broken and then somewhere along the way you acquired three new, unbroken eggs. It’s only pointless if they’re the same six eggs.
Now I’m hungry.
Speaking of eggs, I hope my Dad and his friend Joe enjoyed my short story about the frying egg emoji, at least more than the slush readers at [redacted], which is to say, at all. Look forward to more articles about idioms—at least two more articles about idioms—in the future. Idioms for unusually intelligent and attractive people.
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But, but, where will the mansplainers go to get their water?
So glad I found this engaging, witty blog! An especially welcome surprise when it arrives at the end of a long, backbreaking day of hammering at nonfiction authors to accept edits that will present their genius in alignment with CMOS style.