Writers seldom create words, and only a few do it well.
Lewis Carroll makes it work, as does Shakespeare. Larry Niven gave us a gift
with “tasp.” Those guys made excellent words. The rest of us generally work
with what we’ve got stashed in the dictionary. Callooh, callay!
Fortunately, writing isn’t a job of creating words but of
choosing them. Still, even with a decent vocabulary and a little experience
leveraging the thesaurus, choosing is often harder than it looks. Every writer
must choose the right words based on character, setting, tone, and a dozen
other factors. For instance, there are plenty of words I’ll put in the mouth of
a pretentious scholar that just don’t sound right coming from his street-raised
bodyguard. But there are also words I’m more or less likely to use when writing
a sad story, an action story, a western story, and so on.
Your genre influences your word pool—I get to choose “squamous,”
“ineffable,” and “eldritch” more often than, say, a writer of Regency romances—but
shared-world and tie-in settings can also determine your choices. Obviously,
proper names like “Golarion,” “Tattooine,” and “Immoren” are part and parcel of
writing for Pathfinder, Star Wars, or the Iron Kingdoms, but so are more common
terms like “starknife,” “lightsaber,” and “storm glaive.”
Where it can really start to bake your noodle are the little
differences in spelling or usage. In the world of Pathfinder, for instance, “devil”
and “demon” are never synonyms. Republic ambassadors never heard of coffee but
enjoy a hot cup of caffa (well, until they did, but that’s a whole other blog
on continuity). And in the Iron Kingdoms you need to know the difference
between “mechanical” and “mechanikal,” because you’re going to need them both.
Then there’s the problem of perfectly common words that you
simply need to use much more often in a particular setting. English is arguably
the greatest human language because of its enormous size, which provides many
synonyms. However, even “electrical,” “galvanic,” and “voltaic” will soon seem
insufficient when you’re describing a long battle involving the Cygnaran forces
of Warmachine.
What are some of your favorite problem words from a tie-in
setting? Do they work differently outside that setting? Or are they unique to
it? What are some words you think didn’t need to be created for a setting? Which
ones added something that couldn’t have existed without them?
I like the word "elemental" to mean "primal, basic" but I have to check myself when writing Pathfinder material. It might be taken to mean an elemental creature, or might bring up unintended associations to alchemy and "the four elements." Great post!
ReplyDeleteThat's a really good example.
ReplyDeleteI catch myself using any of the "ability" words, Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, Intelligence, Wisdom or Charisma, and cringe. Describing actions or thoughts around these words can sometimes cause issues. I think, too often, writers turn to the thesaurus when they don't really need to, however. A really cool word for something will probably just make your reader stumble over it, breaking the spell that has immersed him/her in your story.
ReplyDeleteI'm not a big fan of "Battlestar Galactica" in either incarnation, but the word "frak" is probably the best invented epithet around. Most crucially, you can say it like you mean it; it works as a substitute for the other "F" word quite nicely. (And Glen Larson created it for the original series, not Ron Moore.)
ReplyDelete