Pages

Sunday 9 February 2014

Those Naughty Little Word Traps

I have come to the conclusion that a lot of the words I use, are because of pride. A quietly rebellious streak means that I don’t want to use the same words as everybody else. When they ‘vacuum’, I declare that I am English and will ‘hoover’ until the day I die. No matter that others haven’t got a clue what I am actually doing and that even Microsoft Word keeps wanting to change it to hover. In England our children (and adults covertly) eat ‘sweets’. In New Zealand they are ‘lollies’. We had ‘crisps’. Elsewhere outside Europe they are ‘chips’.

As new immigrants, or 'aliens in a strange land' as we used to laughingly call ourselves...well, actually the tears probably weren’t from laughing as I think back on it, we staunchly held onto our heritage with knuckles white from the strain. As our children integrated into their new world and picked up the lingo, my husband and I would dart horrified looks at each other across the tea table as one or other of them used some bizarre kiwi reference to something that the English had named just fine thanks. There was a time when we would nicely ask them to stand and sing ‘God save our gracious queen’ for such offences but they got too many and too often. We would have become a singing troupe instead of a regular family.

I once used the term ‘dyke’ in reference to a small stream of running water nearby, at a church ladies group and was met with stunned silence and eyes the size of tennis balls. I later discovered that it was in fact a ‘gully’ and a dyke is something else completely. If they had reason to question my sexual preference over it, that’s fine as I never went back anyway.

‘Speed bumps’ on the road are called ‘judderbars’ which we thought was silly. But when questioned as to what we called them in the UK, the man fell off his seat at our ridiculous answer. ‘Sleeping policemen’. You only realise how daft something sounds when you repeat it to someone who’s never heard it before, like an alien, or a New Zealander.

A professional editor who fortunately is also a friend, took a look at my first novel, ‘About Hana’. She left me some helpful tracking notes, one of which was, ‘In New Zealand, we don’t hoover, we vacuum.’ I changed every other suggestion she made, except that one. I probably got away with it, because my character was an Englishwoman in New Zealand but I recently realised how ingrained my stubborn attitude had become when I had a debate about it with someone else. I

“I need to go and hoover.”

“You what?”

“Hoover. You know, polish and hoover.”

“Do you mean vacuum?”

“Nope, I definitely mean hoover.”

Unfortunately the conversation wasn’t that short. It was much more protracted and brought up for discussion with everyone else who appeared at our lunch table for the rest of that week. It’s a bit like those poor kids whose parents decided to give them a name using all the consonants in the alphabet but took a dislike to vowels. They have to spell their name out every single place they go, from school to job interviews and finally, sit up in the coffin in exasperation to help the stonemason engrave it on the headstone and the vicar to pronounce it at the service. It just never ends. There are heated discussions about whether or not their parents actually liked them, while they sit there isolated in the knowledge that they are unlikely to ever see it spelled or pronounced right. And then I go and do it to myself deliberately. I eat sweets, drive over sleeping policemen and then complain that nobody understands me.

But the real issue is in my writing. I go to great lengths to explain the Maori words I use and the cultural sayings that weave throughout my work. And then I make my character ‘hoover’. I recently read a novel which was based in America and the author let the main character rave over a plate of ‘grits’. Now to me, grit is something you get in your shoe. It’s a sharp grey stone, usually included in road works and definitely not something you would like to eat, unless of course you wanted to enter a competition for strange people, where the audience says ‘Wow’ and laughs at the crazy behind their hands. Word traps don’t just happen when you open your mouth, they happen when you put pen to paper and the trouble with them appearing in your writing, is that you’re not around to explain how they got there or why.

In my humble opinion, English and American writers are the worst and I am including myself under the former. We are so sure of ourselves and our own dominance of the earth-ball that we expect the rest of the world to catch up with us, never thinking that if we want them to buy and read our novels, it should be us who does the bending. I still occasionally wake up sweating after eight years here, with my fingers working at the keys of an imaginary mobile phone. I know that in an emergency, I will invariably attempt to dial ‘999’ when in fact here, it is ‘111’. In the US I believe it is ‘911’ and there must be numerous different options elsewhere. So why can’t we say in an action filled chapter, ‘He dialled emergency.’ Smaller cultures seem to go to much more effort to explain themselves and it makes for a more integrated relationship with the reader.

Don’t get me wrong, we should be proud to display our various cultural nuances in our work, there’s nothing bad about that. But occasionally, it would be good to hear them explained to readers instead of the poor things sitting there scratching their heads and thinking, ‘she what?’ because at the end of the day all we do is alienate and isolate instead of include and who is going to go back for more of that? Not me. Ultimately it’s none of my business if other people want to eat little grey stones, take Tylenol, Nurofen or Paracetamol for their headache and sleep in cots, which out of interest is what English people put babies in. No, it doesn’t bother me at all, because if I’m bothered, I’m way past the point where I would have bought their books again anyway.

It is truly something of a wake-up call for me. I may personally hoover my carpets until the great white chariot arrives to carry me home with or without my Dyson, but perhaps I need to give my characters a break and let them vacuum. When writing, I need to think more about the word traps which induce frustration in a reader who thinks to themselves, like I did, ‘What the heck’s a grit?’ Anything that makes the reader stop in their tracks and wonder what on earth I mean, is a bad thing. It allows life to creep back in, for them to remember they promised to make dinner, do the shopping, mow the grass, fetch the kids, go for a run and get the Christmas calories off. It interrupts the flow as fatally as a misspelled word or a jarring grammatical error.

Beware the word traps. Because they’re everywhere; in your head, on your tongue, in the ink of your pen and definitely on your keyboard.
 
#wordtraps #indie #amwriting #editing #bookreviewdepot #author #reader

No comments:

Post a Comment