Yeah, it’s odd that contractions and dropped letters and the like are perfectly acceptable in most “low” forms of writing, as well as in some “high” forms. So we have “I wanna hold your hand” (contraction that reflects how the words are pronounced) and “Ain’t it just like the night to play tricks when you’re tryin’ to be so quiet?” (two contractions to maintain the generally anapestic meter, one dropped g probably because it’s easier to sing), as well as “Was’t Hamlet wronged Laertes?” (an invented contraction so that Hamlet, with its stress on the first syllable, fits the iambic meter).
It seems like it’s in between low and high where the questions lie, particularly with prose. And there I think you’re right, you just have to develop a feeling for what sounds right and what doesn’t. Although I tend to favor colloquial speech as much as possible, what we might for lack of a better term just call “plain speaking.”
Years ago there was a comedian who would joke about English’s oddities, like how contractions generally can’t fall at the end of a sentence, as in “That’s the kind of guy I’m,” whereas “That’s the kind of guy I am” is fine.
I like this observation about the rhythm of the full words to close a sentence!
Otherwise, there's a sense of hanging... which explains something of the choice to use the contraction elsewhere, moving the reader to continue the read --
Interesting thoughts on contractions and how far to go in emulating the contractions of spoken language in direct speech and in narration where there’s a strong and personal narratorial voice. These are aspects of the craft of fiction writing I think about a lot, not necessarily coming to firm conclusions.
I tend to think that a little goes a long way in emulating individual or dialectal speech quirks in writing, even though they’re a source of fascination and joy to me as a linguist. At times I’ve definitely overdone it, but that only becomes clear during the revision process. It’s a fine yet fuzzy line between individualised and irritating, and different readers may draw it in different places.
As far as narration goes, I tend to think it has to be a matter of feeling for the rhythm and voice of the particular passage, but then the editor in me screams ’Aargh! Inconsistency!’
Telling my inner editor to shut up, I find that in third person direct / limited narration, using all the elements of register, including contraction, to hint at the manner of speech of the person from whose perspective the action is experienced creates the sort of intimacy I’m aiming for. Does that make sense?
Your third paragraph here is interesting in that it speaks to the efforts and mindspace of creating the novel--sustaining over a lengthy period of time AND through the re-writes. A struggle if the process takes place over a number of years.
The short fiction or essay writer can take pleasure in such work. Build a tone, play. Move on.
Last paragraph--oh yes! That surely makes sense. There can be a quick assumption that first person is optimal for intimacy, but no.
That inner editor really requires a lovely roll of duct tape at points... But the same can be called in to discuss the nature of the "line." And when the line is a shade off...
A useful post, Alison. Thank you. I believe you are (you're?) right...a little goes a long way, and they're for informal writing. Like here. But as always in fiction, know your character and the situation. Sometimes a contraction is the perfect choice.
Yeah, it’s odd that contractions and dropped letters and the like are perfectly acceptable in most “low” forms of writing, as well as in some “high” forms. So we have “I wanna hold your hand” (contraction that reflects how the words are pronounced) and “Ain’t it just like the night to play tricks when you’re tryin’ to be so quiet?” (two contractions to maintain the generally anapestic meter, one dropped g probably because it’s easier to sing), as well as “Was’t Hamlet wronged Laertes?” (an invented contraction so that Hamlet, with its stress on the first syllable, fits the iambic meter).
It seems like it’s in between low and high where the questions lie, particularly with prose. And there I think you’re right, you just have to develop a feeling for what sounds right and what doesn’t. Although I tend to favor colloquial speech as much as possible, what we might for lack of a better term just call “plain speaking.”
Years ago there was a comedian who would joke about English’s oddities, like how contractions generally can’t fall at the end of a sentence, as in “That’s the kind of guy I’m,” whereas “That’s the kind of guy I am” is fine.
I like this observation about the rhythm of the full words to close a sentence!
Otherwise, there's a sense of hanging... which explains something of the choice to use the contraction elsewhere, moving the reader to continue the read --
Interesting thoughts on contractions and how far to go in emulating the contractions of spoken language in direct speech and in narration where there’s a strong and personal narratorial voice. These are aspects of the craft of fiction writing I think about a lot, not necessarily coming to firm conclusions.
I tend to think that a little goes a long way in emulating individual or dialectal speech quirks in writing, even though they’re a source of fascination and joy to me as a linguist. At times I’ve definitely overdone it, but that only becomes clear during the revision process. It’s a fine yet fuzzy line between individualised and irritating, and different readers may draw it in different places.
As far as narration goes, I tend to think it has to be a matter of feeling for the rhythm and voice of the particular passage, but then the editor in me screams ’Aargh! Inconsistency!’
Telling my inner editor to shut up, I find that in third person direct / limited narration, using all the elements of register, including contraction, to hint at the manner of speech of the person from whose perspective the action is experienced creates the sort of intimacy I’m aiming for. Does that make sense?
Your third paragraph here is interesting in that it speaks to the efforts and mindspace of creating the novel--sustaining over a lengthy period of time AND through the re-writes. A struggle if the process takes place over a number of years.
The short fiction or essay writer can take pleasure in such work. Build a tone, play. Move on.
Last paragraph--oh yes! That surely makes sense. There can be a quick assumption that first person is optimal for intimacy, but no.
That inner editor really requires a lovely roll of duct tape at points... But the same can be called in to discuss the nature of the "line." And when the line is a shade off...
A useful post, Alison. Thank you. I believe you are (you're?) right...a little goes a long way, and they're for informal writing. Like here. But as always in fiction, know your character and the situation. Sometimes a contraction is the perfect choice.
Yes: know your character!