Make It Stop!
There is nothing I detest more in life than cliché.
(Except maybe chocolate, but that’s another story…)
That simple, two syllable French word, described in the Oxford English Dictionary as, “a phrase or opinion that is overused and betrays original thought,” is truly the bane of my existence. My body legitimately has a guttural reaction to them: my stomach tenses and flips, my face contorts and my teeth clench. Once accosted, I can’t take more than a few minutes before I need to run for the hills. No joke, I’ve walked out of movies and thrown away books (*gasp*) if they were too heavy handed in their use of cliché.
Case in point: a cringe-worthy scene in the series finale of an uber popular television show, involving a certain female knight finally receiving the commendation rightfully owed.
(Do I really need to name drop?)
I saw this scene coming—saw it played out in my imagination three seasons ago—but I hoped against hope that the show-runners would have some sort of original premise for bestowing that honor on said female knight. But nope! The written scene played out exactly as my mind foresaw, even down to the person bequeathing the honor. I sat on my couch, blanket held up tight against my face, and grunted my disapproval and prayed it would end. Luckily, it did but I was left feeling pissed. In most cases, I’m pretty good at guessing plot points in movies and literature—I just think, “What would I do if I was the writer?”—but with this show, I wanted to be surprised. Instead, I was left disgusted at the cutesy way the writers ended a major piece of that character’s story arch. I’m not saying I’m more talented than the writers of the show — hello, I don’t have a deal with HBO or a publisher…yet :) — but I think a truly gifted writer maps out all the expected outcomes for a character and chooses the most original course. It’s what they did for the preceding seasons, so why drop the ball now?
(Don’t worry, I’ve stepped off my soapbox and won’t mention that show for the remainder of this blog.)
My distaste for cliché isn’t just limited to vehicles of entertainment, I also hate it in all aspects of my life.
Another case in point: my engagement.
When it comes to the proposal of marriage, traditionally it is the male that gets down on one knee and “pops the question.” It’s the one thing that the man has complete control over, specifically the timing and execution. In my case, that was very true. After many conversations and my then boyfriend asking me to load pictures of rings I liked into a shared Google Photos drive, I knew the engagement was imminent. And I was very hands off about it. Except for one thing; I told him I would, without a second thought, say no if he did a cliché proposal. This included proposals staged at sporting events (with the message on the jumbotron), on holidays (i.e. Christmas Day or Valentines), in a horse and carriage (or hot air balloon), or at stereotypical locations (for Philadelphians—in front of the LOVE sign at Love Park). My intent wasn’t to strip him of that creativity, more like I to remember the proposal and not have the urge to vomit.
We got married over a month ago, so I’d say he did a damn good job.
These days when it comes to writing, it can be difficult to have an original premise or plot line; the internet has published content readily available, and the amount of headline-making copyright infringement lawsuits isn’t surprising. But a culturally accepted and expected plot line is sometimes unavoidable, and a cliché becomes that inevitable pothole that bursts your tires. It’s how you maneuver your way out of that pothole that sets your words apart.
When it comes to my manuscript, I did everything I could to avoid those cliché potholes. I swerved, dodged, and ducked from those cringe-worthy plot-lines, and tried to come up with an original story. True, certain clichés were inevitable—especially with stereotypical antagonist and protagonist character tropes—but I tried to put myself in the mind of my prospective reader. Like I mentioned earlier, I asked myself, “What would keep my attention on the page,” and “What would be the assumed plot, and how can I avoid it?”
Did I succeed?
Well, stay tuned :) :)