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shipperx:
:
Dear People Who Write Books That I Read,
I do not care what your characters eat for dinner.
I especially do not care what your characters have for nearly every dinner, lunch, and breakfast. I do not need the menu selection of every pointless, plot-stalling date!
Unless food comes as an offhanded mention, is something notably unique, or pertains to the plot or character, I DO NOT CARE!
Examples where the dinner menu is acceptable:
In one of Rahirah's fanfics, there's a scene where Spike snacks on a puppy. This is a case where I do care what a character has for dinner. It's allowable to tell me that a character is dining on pets.
In Gone Girl a cop notes that Nick had a cup of coffee that morning, but that there was no coffee in the house (because she had checked) and that he had not purchased a cup that morning at Starbucks or at the gas station nearest the house because she had checked those too. (And no, Nick, it is not believable that you are nuking a two-day old cup of Starbucks. Nice try... but no.) This is evidence in a mystery. Acceptable.
In The Hunger Games, it is significant that Katniss and Peeta have never seen so much food in one place because they aren't part of the elite and have spent their lives struggling, trying to poach game, and have sold their lives in a lottery ...for food vouchers. This is an incidence where food serves both plot and a character purpose. Acceptable.
Also acceptable are instances in Connie Willis' books where what is eaten is mentioned to make a point, such as having the time traveller in To Say Nothing of the Dog note the contrast between a Victorian breakfast and a modern person's concept of breakfast foods or in Doomsday Book where she mentions something about Medieval people eating pigeons but not chickens, even though they had chickens. Chickens were only kept for the eggs. These are interesting tidbits of information and as such are acceptable mentions of what a character has for dinner. (Same goes for Clan of the Cave Bear and eating cat tails and day lilies.)
I'll even allow Martin to slide for one dinner per book (though we know he regularly exceeds this) as long as they're mentioning something interesting along the line of people eating swan, or human pot pies (but not Hot Pie!), or something exciting happens like someone keeling over dead in their duck stuffed with grapes and walnuts.
I do not, however, give a shit what contemporary characters eat during a series of dates! I don't care that she decides to make carpaccio, or that he makes an egg-white omlet, or that they stop by a pub for 'delicious, steaming' beef stew, or that he paid a local chef to whip up an 'exquisite' apple tart just for her. I do not care that she places a lot of milk and very little sugar in her "perfect" cup of tea. And I really, really do not need to know what they have for three freaking meals in a row (two of which are four or five course dinners!)
This is called PADDING. And it's boring! You've got a witch, a vampire, an assortment of demons; surely you can come up with something more interesting to talk about than serial tasting fictional bottles of antique wine for no other purpose than to fluff your hero's epicurean cred (what with his being a hobbiest vintner on top of his being an architect, a yoga master, a naturalist who specialized in wolves, and a neuroscientist.). ...Unless it has a plot purpose. (Does it have a plot purpose? Yeah, I thought not.)
I do not need to know that an improbably old bottle of wine has not in fact turned to vinegar but still tastes of oak and moss and fairy wings or whatever (actually, it might be interesting if fairy wings were involved, but it's just the common descriptors of 'oak and citrus', etc.)
I do not need to know whether she's hungry or not in every. other. scene.
I do not need to know that she's just eaten salmon, and next she ate a hearty breakfast, and now they're going to a pub for yet another bowl of soup.
What I need is a freaking PLOT ALREADY!
I was ready to toss the book across the room when the writer went almost directly from describing dinner to describing breakfast. The story is already bogged down by the fact that the most active thing going on in it is library research. To add endless menu descriptions on top of that? Stop it! For the love of readers, STOP IT! The plot is creeping along at a snails pace as it is, and yet somehow I've read more meal descriptions than can be found in an Anthony Bordain book on the restaurant business! I've read a book written by a camp chef in Antartica -- a CHEF mind you -- who spent far less time describing food and its preparation (in Antartica)!
I'm beginning to think the writer is fixated.
*sigh* This book is becoming a slog. If the plot doesn't pick the hell up soon, I don't know that I'm going to make it through.
(On a related note, I also do not need repeated descriptions of how people smell, especially when I'm being told that a man smells like 'cloves and cinnamon' -- more than once. (Is he baking pumpkin pies, for God sake?) Or that a woman smells like wildflowers and honeysuckle and sunlight and whatnot-- more than once!
If you want to say that Reek-Reek-Rhymes-with-Freak hasn't washed in years and is disgusting, well, okay, that's one thing. But constantly telling me in multiple chapters that a vampire smells like the ingredient list for cinnamon buns and Christmas cider and that his lady-friend smells so delectable that he 'can barely contain himself'... well, it's a bit much, y'know? If I wanted to read Twilight, I would.
Is having a plot so difficult?
:
Dear People Who Write Books That I Read,
I do not care what your characters eat for dinner.
I especially do not care what your characters have for nearly every dinner, lunch, and breakfast. I do not need the menu selection of every pointless, plot-stalling date!
Unless food comes as an offhanded mention, is something notably unique, or pertains to the plot or character, I DO NOT CARE!
Examples where the dinner menu is acceptable:
In one of Rahirah's fanfics, there's a scene where Spike snacks on a puppy. This is a case where I do care what a character has for dinner. It's allowable to tell me that a character is dining on pets.
In Gone Girl a cop notes that Nick had a cup of coffee that morning, but that there was no coffee in the house (because she had checked) and that he had not purchased a cup that morning at Starbucks or at the gas station nearest the house because she had checked those too. (And no, Nick, it is not believable that you are nuking a two-day old cup of Starbucks. Nice try... but no.) This is evidence in a mystery. Acceptable.
In The Hunger Games, it is significant that Katniss and Peeta have never seen so much food in one place because they aren't part of the elite and have spent their lives struggling, trying to poach game, and have sold their lives in a lottery ...for food vouchers. This is an incidence where food serves both plot and a character purpose. Acceptable.
Also acceptable are instances in Connie Willis' books where what is eaten is mentioned to make a point, such as having the time traveller in To Say Nothing of the Dog note the contrast between a Victorian breakfast and a modern person's concept of breakfast foods or in Doomsday Book where she mentions something about Medieval people eating pigeons but not chickens, even though they had chickens. Chickens were only kept for the eggs. These are interesting tidbits of information and as such are acceptable mentions of what a character has for dinner. (Same goes for Clan of the Cave Bear and eating cat tails and day lilies.)
I'll even allow Martin to slide for one dinner per book (though we know he regularly exceeds this) as long as they're mentioning something interesting along the line of people eating swan, or human pot pies (but not Hot Pie!), or something exciting happens like someone keeling over dead in their duck stuffed with grapes and walnuts.
I do not, however, give a shit what contemporary characters eat during a series of dates! I don't care that she decides to make carpaccio, or that he makes an egg-white omlet, or that they stop by a pub for 'delicious, steaming' beef stew, or that he paid a local chef to whip up an 'exquisite' apple tart just for her. I do not care that she places a lot of milk and very little sugar in her "perfect" cup of tea. And I really, really do not need to know what they have for three freaking meals in a row (two of which are four or five course dinners!)
This is called PADDING. And it's boring! You've got a witch, a vampire, an assortment of demons; surely you can come up with something more interesting to talk about than serial tasting fictional bottles of antique wine for no other purpose than to fluff your hero's epicurean cred (what with his being a hobbiest vintner on top of his being an architect, a yoga master, a naturalist who specialized in wolves, and a neuroscientist.). ...Unless it has a plot purpose. (Does it have a plot purpose? Yeah, I thought not.)
I do not need to know that an improbably old bottle of wine has not in fact turned to vinegar but still tastes of oak and moss and fairy wings or whatever (actually, it might be interesting if fairy wings were involved, but it's just the common descriptors of 'oak and citrus', etc.)
I do not need to know whether she's hungry or not in every. other. scene.
I do not need to know that she's just eaten salmon, and next she ate a hearty breakfast, and now they're going to a pub for yet another bowl of soup.
What I need is a freaking PLOT ALREADY!
I was ready to toss the book across the room when the writer went almost directly from describing dinner to describing breakfast. The story is already bogged down by the fact that the most active thing going on in it is library research. To add endless menu descriptions on top of that? Stop it! For the love of readers, STOP IT! The plot is creeping along at a snails pace as it is, and yet somehow I've read more meal descriptions than can be found in an Anthony Bordain book on the restaurant business! I've read a book written by a camp chef in Antartica -- a CHEF mind you -- who spent far less time describing food and its preparation (in Antartica)!
I'm beginning to think the writer is fixated.
*sigh* This book is becoming a slog. If the plot doesn't pick the hell up soon, I don't know that I'm going to make it through.
(On a related note, I also do not need repeated descriptions of how people smell, especially when I'm being told that a man smells like 'cloves and cinnamon' -- more than once. (Is he baking pumpkin pies, for God sake?) Or that a woman smells like wildflowers and honeysuckle and sunlight and whatnot-- more than once!
If you want to say that Reek-Reek-Rhymes-with-Freak hasn't washed in years and is disgusting, well, okay, that's one thing. But constantly telling me in multiple chapters that a vampire smells like the ingredient list for cinnamon buns and Christmas cider and that his lady-friend smells so delectable that he 'can barely contain himself'... well, it's a bit much, y'know? If I wanted to read Twilight, I would.
Is having a plot so difficult?
