Why You’re Not Jeff Lindsay, and Why That’s Okay

I recently finished reading the latest novel from Jeff Lindsay’s renowned Dexter series (“Double Dexter” for those keeping score at home), which was also the inspiration for the Dexter television series. If I’m being honest, I think this was one of the weaker installments of the series, but I was once again struck by the quality of Lindsay’s delightfully witty prose.

Cover art for "Double Dexter" by Jeff LindsayJeff Lindsay is one of those rare writers who can truly claim to be an artist with words. His prose is vibrant and brimming with wit, and it’s honestly the best part of the books.

But that’s just the thing: this talent is very, very rare. I can count on one hand the number of authors I’ve read whose prose was a significant part of what made their work enjoyable. (For the record, the others are Douglas Adams, Glen Cook, and James Maxey.)

I’m not talking about writers who can occasionally pull off a brilliant metaphor or a perfectly paced piece of dialogue. I’m talking about someone whose writing is consistently delightful, who could write about the most mundane subject and make it interesting purely through their use of words. One of the funniest things by Douglas Adams that I ever read was a description of his own nose.

I find, however, that many writers — be they professional or amateur — still focus heavily on this one aspect of the writer’s craft. They seem to feel their work is not valid unless their prose is on par with that of the greats, that their worth as a writer is determined largely or solely by the quality of their prose.

Cover art for "She Is the Darkness" by Glen CookThere’s an entire genre devoted to this. Literary fiction is largely about pursuing the most artful prose.

But it’s brutal honesty time. The fact is that the vast majority of writers are not capable of producing truly brilliant prose, and most of the people who pursue it are probably wasting their time. You’re not Jeff Lindsay, and you shouldn’t try to be.

But that’s okay:

Writing good prose is an important part of being a writer, but it’s only one part. By focusing myopically on this one aspect, you risk neglecting everything else about your story.

This is part of why I could never get into literary fiction. Most of the writers seem so caught up in trying to perfect their prose that they forget to actually tell an interesting story or create characters that I want to read about.

Cover art for "Greatshadow" by James MaxeyAnd here’s the most important thing: those authors who sacrificed everything in pursuit of perfect prose? Their writing still wasn’t that good. Why?

Because they’re not Jeff Lindsay.

Most people seem to think writers are born, not made. I disagree. I certainly don’t believe I was born with any particular talent as a writer. I do have a natural inclination towards the creation of stories and worlds, but that alone does not a writer make. Any skill I have as a writer has come through years of study and hard work, and I think anyone could become a decent writer with enough effort.

However, if you want to truly be a master wordsmith, to be able to weave metaphors and imagery like a Lindsay or a Cook, I think that may require some inborn talent.

I’m not saying, “Can’t win; don’t try.” What I am saying is, “Know your limits.”

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy logoThe fact is it’s okay if your prose is ordinary. As long as it tells the story effectively, you can afford to stand on your other strengths as a writer.

For the record, I very much count myself in this category. I know my prose is nothing special, and I know it never will be. I simply try to make it good enough to tell the story as best as I am able. I guess you could say I view myself as a bit like a reporter: there are scenes playing out in my head, and I’m just trying to describe them as accurately as possible.

Most writers are in this category, frankly, including most of my favourites. J.R.R. Tolkien, J.K. Rowling, Ian Irvine, and H.G. Wells are all examples of brilliant writers with unremarkable prose.

Good prose isn’t everything. A book with a gripping plot and engrossing characters can be successful — both economically and artistically — without exemplary use of words.

Remember what I said at the start of this post. Despite its brilliant prose, “Double Dexter” was still a fairly mediocre book.

New article:

My latest article at WhatMMO is 6 Ways Living in an MMO Would Suck.

Don’t nerf me, bro.

THIS IS KARKA!

But it’s also madness:

Battling the Ancient Karka in the Lost Shores event for Guild Wars 2Let’s not mince words: the Lost Shores events in Guild Wars 2 over the weekend were a train wreck. They were not simply a clusterf***; they were a catastrof***.

An endless spree of glitches and bugs, everyone experienced their own unique flavour of ArenaNet’s virtual faceplant. Personally, my experience varied by the day.

The first day wasn’t too bad. The first fifteen minutes or so were unplayable due to DCs, but after that, it was just a lot of lag. The event itself was nothing special, consisting mainly of fighting crab monsters (called karka) in Lion’s Arch.

Saturday’s event was a bit more interesting in concept. We landed on the Lost Shores and set about taming the land, establishing bridges and camps that will be used by all future visitors to the zone.

Battling karka on the Lost Shores in Guild Wars 2Unfortunately, this is where things really went off the rails technically. Among other issues, I spent most of it unable to see anything but my character and the terrain. I also had no sound for most of it.

And this was after a half hour of waiting because the event was late in getting started. I think there was an entire stage of the event that never triggered. On the plus side, we had a dance party on the lighthouse in Lion’s Arch that proved surprisingly entertaining.

The third day was the smoothest technically, but consisted mainly of hours of grinding through a single event chain. The length came not from the amount of content it held, but from the fact that all the mobs had approximately fourteen quadrillion HP and possessed abilities capable of one-shotting a dozen players at once. At one point, all my gear had been broken but for my coat, leaving me to fight karka half-naked.

It was brutal.

The loot at the end was very good, but after what we went through, nothing short of legendaries would have felt like sufficient reward.

Words cannot adequately describe the surreal horror of these events, so I’m just going to spam you with screenshots.

Picture time:

Dancing on the Lion's Arch lighthouseDancing on top of the Lion's Arch lighthouseYou just haven’t lived until you’ve danced with a candy corn monster and an eight-hundred pound Norn man in fluorescent pink armor.

It was sort of like thatYeah, it was sort of like that.

Countless dead players during the Lost Shores event in Guild Wars 2Each of those blue symbols represents a dead player. This was a common sight. Very common.

Building the bridge on the Lost Shores in Guild Wars 2A brief moment in which my fellow players were visible.

Invisible players and NPCs during the Lost Shores event in GW2I’m actually surrounded by players and NPCs in this screenshot. The shield icon hovers over the head of the main event NPC. Also, BACON SQUAD, OO-RAH!

Rage and reflection:

Oddly enough, though, I don’t feel ready to join the legions of angry players howling for ArenaNet’s blood — though I certainly don’t blame them for their feelings.

I won’t defend this most epic of fails, but I will say that I appreciate ArenaNet having the guts to even attempt a live event like this. MMOs should be the most unpredictable and ever-changing genre of game, but often, they’re the most static. I salute ANet for breaking the mould, and I hope they do more such events.

I just hope that those events are nothing at all like Lost Shores.

Also, for what it’s worth, I did quite enjoy the second day, purely because of the people. I did more chatting that day than I have in any game since my Alliance guild split up. It felt good to be a part of a game’s community. Felt like a proper MMO — game-breaking bugs aside.

New article:

My latest article at WhatMMO is 6 MMOs Deserving Resurrection. I always wanted to try Tabula Rasa, but it shut down before I got the chance.