Since it’s the season for horror writing (though I think true Zombie aficionados are always alert and wary for the possibility of an undead uprising, regardless of the time of year) I thought it’d be a good time to talk about a tidal wave of a trend in fiction. I’m guessing if you’re any sort of Zombie fan, you’ve read The Zombie Survival Guide and World War Z by Max Brooks. These two books, so well researched and cleverly assembled helped to make the concept of a species-ending epidemic or plague, very real, bringing them close to home at the same time, viewing such terrific events from a cool and clinical perspective. This perspective added a level of plausibility that the genre had lacked before. Max Brooks two books are clear, concise, informative and not the blood-spattered, hysterical screaming gore fests many of us have come to associate with the genre… (read the rest at www.spectaclepmg.com)

He’s right. It’s very easy in many disciplines of writing to get hung up on the details, the rules and guides. Especially as a screenwriter, where everything is focused on a structure designed to entertain a very fickle audience, you will find yourself comparing your creative moments to where a plot point should occur. This is bad. Just ask Napoleon.

Structure aside, the issue of grammar comes up almost every moment of my writing day. When writing dialogue, I base my dialogue on my character’s backgrounds, their history, their knowledge and upbringing. One thing as writer’s we must always be aware of is the fact that dialogue is one of our many tools, but must never be so direct as a hammer blow.

Think about it. Consider a tense conversation with a boyfriend or girlfriend. Did you come out and say “This isn’t working because you chew your nails and it’s gross.”

Of course not. You said “Well, there are some things that just aren’t working out for me.” Or something to that effect. Directness in dialogue should be saved for action sequences. In all most all other instances dialogue is coy and flitting – no one EVER says what they mean, really. Verbal communication is 90% body language. That means your dialogue should be only about 10% truth. I’m over simplifying, but I hope you can see my point.

Back to grammar. One of the big assignments in any writing program, especially regarding dialogue is the “eavesdropping” assignment. In my academic career I’ve done the assignment four times at least. You’re supposed to go somewhere you aren’t familiar with and listen to the people talk. Listen to their exact words.

You’ll see in about two sentences that no one ever uses proper and correct grammar. Real people just don’t speak that way.

“me and him”
“these ones”
“orientate”
“ya’ll”
“gimme”
“prolly”
“youse guys”
“ya”

The list goes on and on. Good dialogue recognizes verbal colloquialisms and exploits them for a more realistic character.

Conversely, many of fiction writers must spend their odd hours writing for corporations – business freelance writing. Obviously your employer will demand proper grammar in all written communications. However, what is proper to one organization may not be proper to another. This is logical, based on industry specific needs for communication.

4. Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith
Sorry. I’m a huge Star Wars fan, but there are some unforgivable issues in this film. First off, “Hey, Padme, sometimes, people don’t say everything they are thinking, especially women.” The dialogue between Padme and Anakin was not only brutally hard to listen to, but it felt like two virgins miming something they saw on late night television, complete with a misunderstanding of what parts go where. If the Jedi are so powerful, how come they can’t see their boy is chillin’ with a villain? Why do the Jedi espouse control and even-handed yet chop off limbs the first time you cross them? How come there’s no travel time anywhere? Why can’t Anakin act? And finally, just after the speech about how much he cares for Anakin, why does Obi-wan walk off leaving him to die slowly of third degree burns and slip back into the river of boiling lava? Oh that’s right, because they’re just making it up as they go. Seriously.

3. Species
Not even gratuitous nudity could save this stinker. Was this another Verhoeven film? Horny alien genes are spliced with a human in a lab and she gets away cuz’ she’s gotta get her game on? Seriously? Okay, so a crack team of specialists are assembled to track down this little lightspeed lover before she seals the deal. But there’s a catch – the alien wants a baby. Quick to wal-greens for some 9mm rounds and some rubbers! That said, I’ve watched the film like six times.

2. The Matrix: Revolutions/Reloaded
Keanu’s acting is enough to make any true artist crap diamonds. The guy couldn’t offer the emotion of a surf board if his life depended on it. I cite the scene where Trinity croaks and he’s got to press on without her. He barely bats an eye. Or the scene where her heart stops and he’s got to restart it. Again, zero emotion. He’s pretty cool with loosing the only thing he cares about. The ten-million dollar high-way chase scene was brilliant, but did it advance the plot? Nope, not really. If Neo can fly and Agent Smith can replicate himself endlessly, why are they fighting? Why, again, would the robots stop when they have the humans once and for all? That’s certainly not logical. Also, Dear Wachowski brothers: please don’t bludgeon me with your misunderstanding of existentialism.

1. Anything Uwe Boll made
I’m not sure how he does it, but this guy can blend a poor understanding of story telling, bad writing and shoddy cinema into a fruit-smoothie of diarrhea for the mind in .5 seconds flat. And they keep giving him projects. House of the Dead (which barely had a house in it, let alone a plot), Dungeon Siege (oh man, I though they were kidding when they said how bad it was – Ray Liotta?), and of course, Alone In the Dark. Wow. Stinkers on a stick seems too kind.

So rather than just bad mouthing these films, rent them and watch them. Break them down into the core component you use in your writing. Character, Plot, Setting, Sensations. Where do they succeed and where do they fail? It’s easier to see the successes in a poor film that a good one. You’re not a distracted by all the cool and glitter, you’re not immersed in the story, hooked ont eh plot, edge-of-your-seat waiting to find out what happens next, yes, then you can easily criticize.