Staci here, racking my brain for clichés to talk about. Wait, wasn’t that one? You bet, and they’re hard to avoid. Two types of clichés permeate writing, and the first is the tried and true phrases (cliché!) that are so pervasive in everyday conversation that it’s easy to forget they’re clichés at all.
When I finished the rough draft of Going Organic, I read Don’t Murder Your Mystery for revision suggestions. Chris Roerden devoted a chapter to the dangers of clichés, warning that overusing clichés results in lazy writing. The reader will get bored, the writing won’t be fresh, and the publishers won’t be interested. Cliches in dialogue are the exception, since people in everyday life use clichés nonstop. But the others had to go. So I scratched my head, furrowed my brow, and put my nose to the grindstone, eager to ferret out all those pesky clichés.
I must have been a glutton for punishment, because my manuscript was riddled with clichés to the point of being embarrassing. Even after reading the book through again, I’m sure I missed a bunch. Let’s hope they’re all embedded in dialogue.
The other type of cliché I see constantly is character clichés. An author who shall remain nameless but is well known for lawyer books tends to make all his female characters five foot eight to five foot ten, one hundred and fifteen pounds, with long hair and trim figures. Couldn’t we just once have a petite overweight public defender? Would the halls of justice slam their doors shut on such a protagonist? Of course not. But apparently that author wants all his main characters to fit his idea of attractive, even if the description is nothing new.
Don’t get me wrong. Character cliches can be handy for the reader. When I’m introduced to a tattooed gangbanger who drives a souped-up Cadillac with chrome rims and has a heart of gold, I’m instantly oriented. When I meet a grizzled ex-cop turned private eye with a tendency to drink too much, I feel like I’m reading about an old friend. And if the writer’s good, he’ll take these familiar characters and add a twist that livens them up and sparks my interest. And if he doesn’t, then I’ll spend a large portion of the book smirking as the characters do all the things I’m expecting. If the pacing is good and the plot solid, I may even overlook the lack of originality. But that type of writing won’t make me run to the nearest bookstore and buy the next book.
How about everyone else? Do you find yourself rolling your eyes when a buxom blonde in a dress slit up to here (wherever here is) strolls into the room in Chapter 1? Or do you enjoy seeing those familiar faces?
HI Staci! :-) Like you, if I read a cliched character who has an interesting twist, I like it. I think some of my response has to do with "how seriously" the character is treated. If it's a serious book, with a serious plot, then I roll my eyes. Humorous books provide me more leeway to "go with the flow." :-)
Posted by: Ann | August 27, 2011 at 01:06 PM
Stock characters are a given in fiction, and look what Shakespeare did with them, just as one example. It isn't the "stock" so much as what the author does with him/her. I want the twists, preferably with some humor, but I confess I can only take so much "yet one more buxom blonde". Could I please have a redhead or brunette pleasssseee!
Posted by: Priscilla | August 30, 2011 at 04:26 PM
Sounds like we're all in agreement -- stock characters are okay as long as the author brings something new to that character.
Posted by: Staci | August 31, 2011 at 08:01 AM