And now, a word about F-bombs

I just read another social media thread where authors debated the use (in this case, the overuse) of F-bombs in fiction.

Many chimed in to say it was not only acceptable, but they enjoyed sprinkling the word throughout their manuscripts. The majority, however, said it works a few times, but not in heavy doses.

As you might imagine, I have thoughts on this topic.

First, a disclaimer: I generally have a potty mouth. People occasionally ask me how I don’t slip when I’m doing the radio show, and the answer is I don’t know. I think the show accesses a different portion of my brain.

When I see authors—especially new, hungry authors—injecting a sizable dose of graphic language into their stories, my first thought is that they somehow deem it to be “edgy.” And as we all know, if you’re not edgy you’re not cool.

The problem is that most of us were no longer dazzled by that word by the time we reached middle school. Yeah, when Kenny Smith said it in the 4th grade we were stunned, and we watched everyone else to learn how we should react.

But when everyone used it every five minutes in the 9th grade, the shock factor evaporated. Sure, some people still giggle when they say it, but I won’t be surprised if network television okays it in the next few years during late nights, simply because it’s so common.

I mean, back in the late 1950s you couldn’t say pregnant on TV, and in the 60s Lenny Bruce made people gape in utter disbelief with his colorful language.

(Personally, I wish people had listened to what he was saying instead of how he said it.)

Today, Lenny Bruce’s language would go completely unnoticed. His content might still resonate, but the F-bombs? The majority of comics today drop at least one per paragraph.

My point? If you’d like to be a writer, I encourage you to use all of the colors on the word palette. You should strive to make each one fit the moment perfectly. And yeah, there may be the need for a well-placed curse or three in your manuscript.

(When I wrote my non-fiction book about the writing process, called The Color of Your Dreams, so-called foul language was peppered here and there, but only where I felt it worked. And, as expected, some people took exception.)

But if you’re dropping two dozen F-bombs per chapter in order to seem edgy or cool or “in touch”—whatever that means—I think you’re putting the emphasis on the wrong thing. It should be focused squarely on the story and the characters.

Photo courtesy of Victoria Zakharchuk on Unsplash

A common cop-out is to proclaim, “But that is my character!” Yeah, okay. Then I hope your character has something else to lean upon besides a proclivity for raunchy language. It’s, um, been done. Dressing up a poor story by concentrating on F-bombs and other assorted gems from the naughty pile is a crutch.

A word like that is a spice; it works where it works. But dump in a whole jar of the stuff and you’re suddenly an amateur chef.

If this post resonated with you, you can buy Dom a tea or a beer, right here. He’d f-ing love it.