by Tim Dedopulos

The Stygian Witches were a peculiar group of three Greek crone-sisters, the Graeae, who shared between them just one eye and one tooth. They were brought back to prominence in our culture by their portrayal in the classic 1981 epic Greek fantasy movie, Clash of the Titans. In the famous Ray Harryhausen movie, they were played by three veteran British actresses, Flora Robson, Anna Manaham and Freda Jackson.

As is so often the case in Greek mythology, there are a number of different clashing details about the Stygian witches. Some things are certain, though. They were the daughters of Phorcus and Ceta, and may have been born as triplets. They were the sisters of the Gorgons (the famous Medusa and her two obscure sisters, Euryale and Sthenno), and also their assigned guardians. They were grey-haired from the moment of birth – Graeae means ‘Grey Woman’ – and shared between them just a single eye and a single tooth. They were able to pass these organs around between them, so that each could take her turn seeing and eating. However unlikely it may sound, the Graeae are described as originally being beautiful – “fair-faced and swan-like” – although by the time they feature in any legends, they have become old and hideous.

The witches were named Deino, Pemphredo and Enyo. Their names give some indication of their perceived nature – respectively, they mean Dread, Alarm, and Horror. They lived in a dark cavern near the entrance to Tartarus, close to the island where the Gorgons were banished. Enyo in particular lived up to her name; she often appears drenched in blood, and was said to lay waste to entire cities. There are also suggestions that she may have been related to Ares, god of war, either as his mother, sister or daughter, although that is more of a comment on her nature than her genealogy. All three were said to be extremely wise in knowledge, monster-lore and witchcraft.

In the best-known myth about the Stygian Witches, King Polydectes sent the hero Perseus on a mission to get Medusa’s head – even in death, the gorgon would still have the power to turn people who saw her to stone. Perseus was aware that he would be aided in his task by a group of nymphs, but didn’t know where to find them, or where to look for Medusa. He did know how to find the Graeae however, so he went to visit them, and as they were passing their eye between them, he snatched it from them and demanded that they tell him everything he needed to know, or he wouldn’t give it back. The desperate Graeae obeyed and answered all his questions. Despite their assistance, Perseus broke his promise to return the eye, and later threw it into lake Triton.

The Graeae are thought to have been the focus of a group of swan cults across ancient Greece. Strange as it may sound to us now, swans are not just symbolic of beauty, but they were also thought to represent cunning, prophecies (particularly of death), access to other realms, and a range of other, darker things. The Stygian Witches were probably worshipped as the avatars of that set of symbolism – particularly being born grey-haired and with just one eye, and yet also described as swan-like beauties. The missing eyes would have implied sight into other realms, and the grey hair was a symbol of their wisdom and magic power. Peculiar modern suggestions that the Stygian Witches actually represented nothing more than the white froth on top of waves seem to be based on linguistic similarities between their name and the colour grey.

by Tim Dedopulos

George Orwell was one of the 20th Century’s greatest observers — and critics — of English culture. His work is incisive, intelligent, passionate, and devoutly opposed to injustice and totalitarianism. He’s best remembered for his brutally frightening dystopian novel 1984, and his name has become a common term of criticism for draconic, repressive and manipulative social forces. He’d be deliciously pleased by that, I think.

As well as leaving us with a lot of important political and philosophical issues to think about, Orwell also provided some characteristically intelligent and well-though-out writerly advice.

A scrupulous writer, in every sentence that he writes, will ask himself at least four questions, thus:

1. What am I trying to say?
2. What words will express it?
3. What image or idiom will make it clearer?
4. Is this image fresh enough to have an effect?
   
   

And he will probably ask himself two more:

1. Could I put it more shortly?
2. Have I said anything that is avoidably ugly?

One can often be in doubt about the effect of a word or a phrase, and one needs rules that one can rely on when instinct fails. I think the following rules will cover most cases:

1. Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.
2. Never use a long word where a short one will do.
3. If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.
4. Never use the passive where you can use the active.
5. Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.
   
   

Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.

We wrote this article for the Random Writing Rants blog where it appeared several days ago, but we figured it would be helpful for all of you as well.

by Tim Dedopulos and Salome Jones

Point of view in fiction is simply the way the narrator sees the story that’s being told. There are several different points of view from which you can write. Most modern fiction is written in either first person (“I”) or third person close (“he”/“she”), sometimes called third person limited. There are other points of view, of course. Third person omniscient used to be very popular, but has largely faded now. The same is true of confessional first person, the viewpoint of diary entries. Second person (“you”) and first person plural (“we”) do exist, but they’re rare and mostly used experimentally, so I won’t dwell on them. 

There are still a few omniscient stories out there in our literary history, maybe even a few modern omniscient stories. If you’ve stumbled on one or two, they might have given you  the impression that in fiction the narrator always knows everything, can see inside every character’s head without restriction. 

Indeed, in an omniscient point of view, the narrator is generally a neutral, unnamed entity who can see everything. This can work for fairy tales and some fantasy stories, but there’s a method to it. It’s not as random as it seems. There always needs to be a focal point. In omniscient, you can think of your point of view as being like the camera in a film. The problem with it is that it’s not very personal, which distances the reader from the text. Do note that you can’t just claim omniscient viewpoint and write willy-nilly through every character’s head in your story. If you want to know about how to use omniscient properly, I suggest this article by Charlie Jane Anders. The short of it is that for the most part, omniscient voice is very difficult for a less-experienced writer to pull off successfully.

Both third person close and first person allow for the viewpoint character’s thoughts to be included in the story. No other character’s thoughts will be available, except in the same way that you or I can find out what someone’s thinking: they tell you, you guess or give them truth serum or, since we’re discussing fiction, possibly you use psychic abilities or other such devices. A lot of third person fiction has moments where it shades towards the loose, however, providing some wiggle room for other interjections. This just isn’t acceptable in first person.

Coming back to first versus third, viewpoint problems are much more likely to show up in third person. First person is simpler to stay accurate in; we all instinctively know how to correctly tell a story about ourselves. The flip-side is that it’s sometimes (foolishly) considered less worthy of respect than third person, particularly amongst publishers and other authors. “Oh, yes, you write first person” is not a compliment.

The most common third person issue is ‘head hopping.’ The author steps out of the point of view character’s head and into another character’s head, maybe just for one line or one paragraph. This has a jarring effect on the reader, because it’s not how our minds work. We can guess or wonder what someone else is thinking about, but we can’t know, and we certainly can’t instantly jump to another person’s thoughts. It feels unnatural when this happens on the page.

There are other things that violate point of view, of course: If your narrator character sees something that’s happening behind his or her back; if she describes her own face or appearance (something we just don’t do in normal life) to herself; if she talks about what’s happening somewhere else (that she can’t see); and so on. These are all major POV violations.

The same principles apply in first person. If I’m sitting in a café and I’m telling you about what’s happening and I say, “I looked like I’d seen a ghost,” I’m violating point of view. My eyes don’t have small hovercrafts attached to them so that they can zoom across the room to look back at me. That’s someone else’s POV, someone who’s looking at my face.

One way to think about the difference between first person and third person close is that third person is one step removed. It’s as if someone told you their first person story and you’re telling it again, using their words, their reactions and so forth, but all you have to go on are their personal experiences and observations. It’s a little more distant, with a little more room for uncertainty than first person. You’re still inside the viewpoint’s head in third person, but you’re a passenger rather than a confidante. As such you get to see the things that maybe their conscious mind doesn’t notice. By contrast, in first person, you are restricted entirely to things that the viewpoint character is consciously aware of. If it’s not something that someone like your first person viewpoint might plausibly think to themselves in that situation, then it can’t be on the page. No excuses!

There are advantages to both first and third person. First person is cozy and intimate. It lets you build up a strong sense of the viewpoint character, and encourages the reader to identify with the character. It’s quite claustrophobic, however. If your viewpoint wouldn’t hear those words in her head, they can’t be on the page. Most of us stumble through life preoccupied with stuff, so rich description, background exposition and impersonal asides are all unsuitable. Third person, by contrast, is lush and detailed. It allows for deep thought, careful observations, misdirection, and a degree of freedom in pacing. You’ll get to know the viewpoint character very well, very truly. It’s a little standoffish though, not as warm and friendly as first person. It’s not quite as accessible, either. The appropriate viewpoint for your work will depend on the story you want to tell.

You can, of course, write a story using more than one narrator. This is probably more common than a single-viewpoint in novels, particularly in third person. However, certain rules apply if you choose to do this. The most important is not to confuse the reader. If you’re going to use two points of view, then doing it in long stretches, like chapters or at least several pages, is preferable to switching back and forth every couple of paragraphs. If you do change points of view in the middle of a chapter, you should use white space – a skipped line – to indicate it. (By the way, the other time to use white space is when you make a significant leap through time.)

There are other things I’ve seen recently that bear mentioning. When two people are having a conversation on a page, point of view doesn’t switch back and forth with the speaker. When you’re talking to someone, you don’t become her just because she opens her mouth, right? You still see things that way you see them, including what another person says.

A subtler thing to consider is that if you have two characters sharing the narration, ideally they’ll have slightly (or even very) different voices. They won’t have the same thoughts or feelings, and you won’t use the same words to describe their actions. They won’t use the same types of similes and metaphors in description, and may see the same object in very different ways. You want your reader to hear your character in their heads. This is true whether or not it’s written in first person. Yes, third person narration will be a little more distant than dialogue, which is exact speech, but even narration needs to be colored by the point of view character’s way of thinking. Don’t jump between first person and third person in the same book, by the way; it unsettles readers, and throws them out of the fictive trance. (There are rare exceptions where this can work, but they are truly rare.)

The example my editing partner and I often give of clunky viewpoint in critiques is what’s become known as ‘the mirror moment.’ This is the point where a character sees herself in the mirror and launches into a lengthy description, saying things like ‘Kelly wasn’t very attractive despite being 5’8” tall. Despite her shoulder-length blonde hair, blue eyes and cupid-bow lips, she was thick in the middle, had crooked teeth and didn’t know how to dress herself.’ When is the last time you looked in the mirror and made a laundry list of your flaws? Isn’t it more likely to go like this?

‘Kelly bared her teeth and leaned close to the mirror. God, that gap between her front teeth looked horrible. If only her mother would let her get it fixed. She sighed. She’d probably have to earn the money herself before that would happen.’

We hope this has been helpful to you. Feel free to ask your point of view questions in the comments.

by Salome Jones

I wanted to point out a few errors I see all the time. These aren't writing errors so much as spelling and punctuation errors, but to a trained eye, like that of an agent or publisher, they'll leap out in an otherwise well-written page (or make a not so well-written page look even worse.)

Things About Numbers

Numbers used in text come with their own rules. The numbers one through nine are always written out in letters. Numbers ten and above are written as numerals. The exception is that when you have both, you must choose to either write them all as numerals or spell them all out. Except where it's unweildy, numbers used in dialog should be spelled out. (This doesn't apply to time, which has its own rules as well.)

When making numbers plural, as when talking about the nineties, you can write the word as I've done here, or you can use '90s. Note that there's no apostrophe between the zero and the s. That would be a possessive. It's the same with the 1990s. No apostrophe between the zero and the s.

Making Acronyms and Abbreviations Plural

I see a lot of people using an apostrophe s to make a series of capital letters plural. Actually, all you need is an s.

She learned her ABCs.

In researching this, I even found a 'grammar' site instructing people to use 's to make numerals and capital letter abbreviations plural. That grammar site is mistaken. Be careful when consulting smaller websites. For such issues consult one of the known sources of grammar information ,such as the Chicago Manual of Style or the Blue Book (grammarbook.com). If you're writing a university paper, you might be instructed to use the MLA Manual and Guide to Scholarly Publishing. These are for Americans. Wikipedia has a list of style guides for other areas of the world here.

These books are updated and revised editions are published periodically to keep up with any agreed upon changes in the rules. I check in frequently and notice that things I had become used to have been changed. Our usage evolves because new things enter the world and old usages become inconvenient or confusing.

The 'All Right' Versus 'Alright' Issue

There are grammar geeks out there who will smugly inform you that alright is not a word. Some will go on to say that it's never been a word.

Because I live on the cusp of two worlds on opposite sides of the Atlantic, I've been made to feel some confusion about this word. The British use 'alright' more commonly than Americans do and many knowledgeable people have informed me that it's not incorrect.

I've begun to allow 'alright' to stand in some British manuscripts under very particular circumstances. These are, in written dialog and in some first person narratives, where the intention is a less formal usage. I justify it with this from the Oxford English Dictionary people.  I also take into consideration the fact that many Britons I've spoken to have expressed that for them 'all right' and 'alright' have different nuances of meaning. For Americans this isn't true and I don't consider it acceptable usage in American English. Neither do any of the American grammar guides.