Engaging writing VS Correct writing

I wake a little early again this morning, taking my time to wake up, read some and get dressed before I head down to the house to start the day for real.
The sun is shining brightly overhead but it isn’t warm by any means. During the winter months, southern Spain will be sunny often but since chilly nights cool everything down considerably, it isn’t a warming sun, just bright.

Since I suspect that today will be another long one spent behind the computer, working on proofreading and editing the latest finished project, I take an hour for today’s exercise now that my body isn’t protesting too much at the prospect, and actually make it through it, without turning red like a lobster. I’m guessing that slowly, but steadily my body is getting adjusted to the intense movements. Though perspiration still gushes and my breathing speeds up, I no longer taste that nasty coppery stuff in the back of my throat after a long jab-jab session and feel pretty pleased by that. Progress is grand that way.

Laundry is handled as usual, and considering I’m hungry, breakfast actually has some taste this day.

Messages on the computer come next, until at long last big brother and I set to work on some serious editing. This leads to a rather interesting debate about “good, engaging writing” VS “correct writing”. After some searching through our book collection we come to the astounding conclusion that they are not the same at all.

A lot of books out there at the moment, published by the big and small houses alike might, for all intents and purpose, be correct, but that correctness doesn’t necessarily make them good and engaging. It is a most troubling concept, I’ve found, because I take less notice of something being correct than I do of something that’s just good, or flows.

I’ll give an example to make my point, and post a few sentences. They mean the same, they are the same, but the writing is totally different. Here goes:

“A delighted sparkle of laughter escaped her lips when she slipped on the moist bricks and managed to regain her balance, just barely, by grabbing hold of one of the old lanterns that lined the street.”

That was one version, now here’s the second:

“Slipping on the moist bricks, she grabbed hold of one of the old lanterns that lined the street. She managed to regain her balance, just barely, and a delighted sparkle of laughter escaping her lips.”

Now, as you can see the first sentence is very long, intricate; putting the emphasis on “her sparkling laughter” which is the most fetching part of the piece-all things considered. That laughter jumps out, it sets a scene and creates an image. It is an effect that is explained by describing the actions leading to it and allows the reader to create a clear image that is added to as, said reader, continues on.

The second sentence is much simpler. A basic description of cause and effect that finally leads to the end result, which has lost a lot of it’s charm once the reader has gone through the entire sum-up leading that “sparkling” point.

Another example, seeing as I’m feeling inspired by my little rave:

“Mesmerized, his eyes followed her progress down the street, heat rising from the depths of his soul as he took in every single movement; the way her long legs flexed with her bouncy step, her arms swinging rhythmically.”

Or:

“His eyes followed her progress down the street. He took in every single movement as heat rose from the depths of his soul. He was mesmerized by the rhythmical swing of her arms and her long legs that flexed with her bouncy step.”

The top one emphasizes how he is mesmerized and describes how it affects him before the explanation for this state of mind revealed.
The second one makes the fact that he is “mesmerized” secondary, and describes his action before the effect is actually experienced.

With a lot of books these days it is a basic process, going from 1 2 3 4 as a set standard that is accepted and considered correct. It appears to be the preferred method of going through a story.
You hardly ever see it all tossed about until an interesting combination pops up: Like starting with 4 that is then explained by 1 2 3 or 3 2 1 or whatever variation thereof.

Take real life, or a movie, for instance. Sometimes when you see someone you’ll notice a look of utter fascination (=4) after which you start looking around to find the source of it (=3). You then proceed to examine this source (=2) and get to where you either agree of disagree with the person (=4) or not, reaching the starting point of the fascination at long last (=1).
A jumble make for a rather interesting image in most cases and it allows the imagination to form an opinion on its own, without forcing one to follow a specific path.
Nothing in real life is ever as simple as 1 2 3 4, and yet it is expected in books, for some reason.

Now, I can’t say which one is “right” or “wrong” and in all honesty, I don’t really care. I can only say what speaks to my imagination most, and what doesn’t.
Perhaps it is comparable with the phrases, “having sex” and “making love”.
The first is the basic deed focused solely on a singular, and often lonely, end goal. (=1 2 3 4)
The second is a journey of discovery with twists and turns that will gradually create many destinations. (=2 3 1 4 or whatever jumble that applies.)

When I read a book, I create an image in my head–much like a movie. It is basic at first, small details creating a simple picture, which becomes more defined as the story develops. But then, once the details have been added (a merging if you will), they, the insignificant details” disappear from my mind, leaving only that picture behind which holds them all without me actually having to remember all the separate aspects.

I think it is one of the reasons why I’m not all that good at giving specific reviews for the books I read. I only retain the complete picture after some time has passed, “good” or “bad”, “light” and “dark”, general atmosphere that sort of thing. It is a very basic memory on the most part, one that’ll allow me to go back to a book I enjoyed, time and again because the image remains and will let me relive it by rereading the specifics that disappeared through time, and thus make it interesting again.

It doesn’t mean that when I reread something, it is all new to me. Not at all. I know if I’ve already read a particular book within the first three paragraphs because in just a few minutes that once formed image will be right there in the forefront of my mind, allowing me to step straight into the fictional world of choice.

Admittedly, I regret the uniformity that is pretty much the preferred form of writing these days. I understand the reasons for it, but it does take away a certain creativity that would make our choices as readers far more versatile. What with such a strict standard to uphold, it is becoming harder and harder to discern one writer from the next, and that is a terrible shame.

The way an author writes, the way a sentence is formulated, the cadence, the prose and all its complexities, and yes, even the typos make up something that can tell a reader a lot about the one who’s imagination is being explored. If the freedom to do so is slowly placed within confines of rules and set formats, one will be just like the next, and all those marvelous writers of past and future alike will just disappear within a single formula.

Right and wrong: Who’s to say what that is, really? Are all those rules not set on those who dared to be different? Were the famous ones heralded from the moment they wrote down their first word, or did they have to change the set order before it was accepted?

What would the written word have been like if those odd ducks out there–ridiculed and laughed at in their time–had not dared to go past the rules of what was said to be literature.
Dialogue wouldn’t have been accepted…at least not in the way that is so very normal in stories these days.
Action scenes that actually allow the reader to experience it, rather than witnessing it from the perspective of the narrator… impossible.

There were so many extraordinary milestones, and yet there are so many who say that the set rules should be followed at all costs, lest there be chaos. It seems that one conveniently forgets that a full life IS chaos, and that chaos is exactly that which makes all interesting.

Every writing class promotes creativity and individuality but a simple reformation of a sentence that is “supposed” to go one way but goes the other, will practically cause convulsions. How can anyone be individual in anything if, in this instance, writing something down can only be done in so many ways?

The debate certainly gives food for thought during the course of the day, while big brother and I throw ourselves into the editing session, head-first.

As is standard when writing, dinner is pretty much forgotten; making us both glance up wanly by the time ten PM passes. This gnawing sensation in our stomachs forces me to tear myself out of my seat to grab a pre-baked pizza disk from the freezer and top it with veggies and cheese–like the sibs had done without either of us noticing it.

The dogs watch with interest as I stand at the counter, applying the wanted ingredients, and Clue perches himself on the chair beneath the stairs where he can watch without the other dogs knocking into him.
He’s doing well enough, I suppose. He does appear somewhat weary today, due to his energetic enthusiasm last night, but the stitches look good, so that’s a plus.
He does manage to catch a piece of pepper, which is a marvelous feat, considering the forty or so dogs that are vying for a treat as well.

But anyways, my stomach is growling by the time the pizza is done, still, I am barely able to down my fair share as we continue to hackle over this sentence and that until at long last we reach the set page for today’s session and call it a day, well past midnight.

My dogs are happy to go up for sure, wanting that bit of extra attention now that I have been off to the fictional world of vampires and such, and barely had time for their most basic needs. They eagerly join me on the bed, Mosha curling in my lap to get her daily dose of cuddling.

Time to go to sleep with hopefully another successful day behind the computer tomorrow.