Well-turned Phrases by Andy Scheer

“Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.” —George Orwell

I've considered that advice this past week as I've been reformatting some curriculum for the writer's group I work for part time.

In a lesson on writing style, the course advises:

“Good writers try to get out of the way of their own messages. They don't try to impress with beautiful words, nice turns of phrase, or fancy sentences that draw attention to their writing ability. … If a sentence draws attention to itself or to the writer, it has to go.”

“Kill your darlings,” Stephen King says, “kill your darlings, even when it breaks your egocentric little scribbler's heart, kill your darlings.”

It's a fine balance—avoiding cliched expressions and finding fresh metaphors that communicate powerfully, but also subtly. This past week I've been re-reading Stephen King's massive novel 11/22/63—taking the time to appreciate some of the nuances of his craft.

Here are some of his well-turned phrases I discovered on my second reading:

● In small towns certain names seem to sprout like dandelions on a lawn in June. (p 126)

● . . . ordered a shore dinner, which came with clams and a lobster roughly the size of an outboard motor. (pp 126-127)

● . . . the color of water beneath a sky from which snow will soon fall. (p 152)

● . . . flooded the room with enough fluorescent light to take out an appendix by. (p241)

● . . . the fall colors began to bloom—first timid yellow, then orange, then blazing strumpet red as autumn burned away another Maine summer. (p 270)

● . . . long autumn afternoons, most hazy and warm. Dusty gilded light slanting down through the trees. At light, a quiet so vast it seemed almost to reverberate. (p 270)

● . . . staring . . . with his mouth slightly hung open. It was the expression of a farmer who sees dinosaurs cropping grass in his north forty. (p 325)

● It was more than a smile; his face was transformed with the happiness that's reserved for those who are finally allowed to reach all the way up. (p 328)

These phrases must not have been his darlings, for which I'm grateful. They're certainly not ones I'm used to seeing in print—or especially in anyone's first draft.

Let's Ride It Again by Andy Scheer

That's what I heard from my family years ago at Disney World after first riding the Thunder Mountain Railway. We'd enjoyed everything about it, so let's do it again.

Often if I've enjoyed something, I like to repeat the experience. Vacation destinations, restaurants, favorite movies, novels. Especially novels.

But with books, I usually let some time pass before re-reading. Until this weekend, I can remember only one book besides the Bible that, as soon as the ride ended, I immediately returned to the front of the line.

The book that prompted that response was Stephen Bly's Paperback Writer. The tale was so quirky, so audacious, I immediately re-read it— “Just to see if it ends up the same way the second time,” I said. It did, but it still left me amazed.

Nine years later, it happened again. Saturday I finished the novel, then re-read the conclusion—and decided I needed to read it again. Sunday I started back into the book.

The first time I read it too quickly. I wanted to see what happened next, and next, and next. A few times I took note of some aspect of the craft—a new subplot or a fulfillment of some foreshadowing. But the story was too well told for me to read it analytically. This time I want to savor the tale more slowly.

There's an old saying that a bad book can't be too short, or a good one too long. This time the latter certainly applies, though Stephen King's 11/22/63 weighs in at nearly 850 pages. Already the second time promises to be just as good.

Have you encountered other books worthy of an instant replay?