Language, the dictionary says, is 'a system for the expression of thoughts, feelings, etc., by the use of spoken sounds or conventional symbols'. This 'system' is specific to a given group - a nationality (e.g. French) or computers (programming language, etc.) among other things. Finally, it can mean a style of verbal expression (such as 'your language is disgusting'). Basically, it means 'how you get a certain message across.'

Related to this is terminology or jargon (specific vocabulary related to a given subject or area). This can range from buzzwords, medical terms, chat room essentials or many other things. Then there's the question of the vocabulary you use in general. Boring so far, isn't it?

Sometimes, of course, what we try to communicate can go horribly wrong. That can be our fault or that of the person on the other end or both - have we used the wrong words or signs, or don't other people understand them?

Again, these are hardly statements worthy of an award for originality but they're worth thinking about in both general and highly specific terms. If we master a language, jargon or just get the choice of words right - or even if we have access to someone who can help - we obviously stand a greater chance of getting our message across.

Wouldn't it be lovely if we could communicate without learning the grammar and the other tricky bits? For people to grasp a message immediately? Well, life ain't like that. No gain without pain, to add another cliché to the already impressive pile. Sadly, a 'universal communicator / translator' of any kind, whether human, alien or computer, still hasn't grasped logic fuzzy enough to handle the way we need to get all messages through correctly, so we still need to fight the good fight on many fronts.

There's a great deal of merit in trying to make sense of a different language, whether you're struggling to find a toilet in France or to produce a line of html that comes out right on a screen. Even so, studying to become an expert linguist or programmer isn't a viable solution for everybody, nor is help always at hand.

Even so, it's rather nice for yourself and the person on the receiving end when whatever 'language' you're using does achieve two-way communication without mix-ups and misunderstandings (as in not only being able to ask where the damn toilet is but realise it's downstairs and third door on the right). Even if this means waving hands, you've got there.

The important thing is to decide - whether you're writing a story or just communicating in general - what level of communication you want to achieve. Finding a loo is one thing and gesticulating can do the job. When you're writing, however, you might want the communication to be a bit more polished.

Let's get on to fiction, then, and a few reflections on getting some messages across, and in particular the use of foreign language, specific details, jargon or vocabulary in a story.

Lots of people like to throw the odd bit of another language or a technical detail into something. This can be very effective, or it can fall flat on its face. Just as there will be somebody, somewhere, who'll immediately know whether you can tell a Beretta from a Glock, somebody else will spot a spelling or syntax mistake in that cutesy bit of French you decided to include. Nitpicking? Yes, probably but that's how I am. I'm not even going to mention spelling your own language right (or at least not here).

Of course, a lot depends on how important it is to you that what you've included is accurate and also whether you're prepared to take the flak from an indignant reader, whether linguist or weapons expert, who decides to take you to task if you're not. In my opinion, it's always worth checking when you can. Why confuse the French 'prêter' (to lend) with 'péter' (to fart) if it's avoidable? And yes, I did that.

If you do decide to chuck in a bit of local lingo because it's essential to what you want to portray, you also encounter the same problem as they do in films - to subtitle the foreign bits or not? In writing, it's the same thing - do you put it in as is, or translate it?

Just out of interest, we might think that everybody understands something as basic as ' mais oui' so decide to leave it as is, within the text itself and without further ado. The trouble is, everybody might not . I've had a perfectly serious question from an American tourist as to whether the large sign that said 'Lac' meant 'Lake' (even though it showed a boat on little wavy lines, and this in a town on the shores of Lake Geneva). I'm not criticising those who aren't talented linguists - each to their own. Just never assume too much.

If the foreign words are fairly self-explanatory given their context, you can perhaps avoid the footnote manoeuvre - somebody under extreme stress yelling 'va te faire foutre' can hardly be expected to be saying 'nice day, isn't it?' So if you're just looking for a bit of 'local colour', then fine. However, if you're writing a discussion involving bits that are important to the plot or dialogue - and if you feel you have to put this in Serbo-Croat for some reason, that is - it would merit a translation.

Still on the subject of foreign languages but taking a different direction (while I'm at it), I get very frustrated when a hero is perfectly, brilliantly fluent in obscure dialects of every language under the sun. You know the sort of thing - 'of course I speak (insert language such as Tagalog, Hindi or Latvian )'. This is extraordinarily common in all kinds of adventure stories.

The trouble is, this person is not likely to fool anybody beyond a few phrases unless he or she is of that particular descent or has spent a great deal of time actually in the country or among native speakers. A couple of hours with a Linguaphone cassette before going undercover somewhere just won't do the job - the only message the poor guy is really going to get across is that he's not a genuine Sardinian shepherd after all, despite the stick-on moustache.

Maybe some people can suspend belief on this, but I can't any more than anybody with medical knowledge can read about some completely wrong medical procedure without at least an indignant mutter to themselves.

Before I get myself shot, there is a difference between somebody who speaks a language perfectly and one who has a pretty good understanding of it. Daniel Jackson in Stargate is said to 'speak 23 languages'. OK, he might well do so if you intepret 'speak' as 'getting along in' them or 'being able to read, understand and translate' them. There's a big difference.

We all recognise far more words than we can actually use (our 'passive' vocabulary'), whether foreign or our own. If somebody asked me what 'turpentine' was in Russian I'd probably look blank (if I hadn't used this example many times). Show me 'skipidar' in Cyrillic and preferably in context such as a text about chemicals, and - bingo. However, you can only start to use these words (active vocabulary) correctly once you're a lot more familiar and confident with them. Thus spoke the linguist in me.

No mention of languages in connection with fan fiction would be complete without a mention of foreign language writers. I bow to their courage and admire them greatly. It's very, very hard to do, even if you master a different language superbly, and what's more English is by no means the easiest language in the world to master. There's always that subtlety, or that nuance, in any language that gives you away when you're not a native speaker of any language, in fact, as I've learned from my own experience with writing in a language that isn't my own.

Foreign language writers also want to get a message across, to tell a story, and often succeed brilliantly. Sometimes it means a lot of work with an editor to make sure that a few lines haven't got themselves crossed, but the authors can - and do - have fun and are doing their absolute best. They also have more excuses than most of us for a whole lot of 'nuts and bolts' things so don't ever shoot them for such mistakes. If you think their story could be better in that connection, offer help rather than criticise. It's very hard for a foreigner to find someone with the time and patience to work with them, but the rewards for all concerned can be well worth it.

It's also difficult to avoid mentioning language and communication without a mention of Real English versus the sort that those across the Pond completely messed up. And yes, I'm kidding. I've had to learn to use both and to some extent appreciate the two. So much has been said on the subject that I'm not going to add much, either.

Getting your elevators and lifts sorted, Sunday joints defined and eliminating the Horror That Is 'Gotten' from anything in UK English seems like a pretty good idea - there are thousands of differences of usage and spelling between the two and it's so easy to miss just one that will immediately give you away.

In fiction, if you're narrating from the point of view of an American character, then you should write American. If you're telling the story as 'the author', it's your call but be consistent. Much as I'd hate to see "Bodie walked three blocks to order French fries and eggs over easy", there's an argument for it, as long as you're not putting the words into his mouth. Similarly, I suppose a British writer could report that Daniel Jackson felt Jack O'Neill was being awfully silly rather than damn stoopid, although it hardly seems appropriate.

Another issue that can arise is when the characters represent the two nationalities, such as Curtis and Keel from the New Professionals or that old English series 'The Persuaders' with Danny and Brett. Here, I'd say the narrator could choose camps.

Let's move on to a few other language-related things connected to fan fiction and starting with jargon.

Like in many areas, professions or sectors, even fan fiction itself has its own terminology or abbreviations, which come under the general term 'jargon'. Like it or hate it, it's there to stay so you need to get used to it and at least recognise it if you're going to play. You can't get into sailing if you don't know your capstan from your winch, just as you aren't going to enjoy a chat room without differentiating between LOL and AFAIK.

I remember first coming across things like fen, listsibs, h/c, canon, Mary Sue, smarm, and a good deal more and thinking 'eh?' It doesn't take much learning, though, as I think a great many people have realised. Here, Google can be your friend, but so can more experienced fans - the vast majority of them, I've found, are happy to explain things. Some aren't and poke fun at newbies, but that's another story.

I'm not going to ramble on about how irritating or inappropriate some of the 'fandom' words are (beta'd being one that particularly irritates me because of that damned apostrophe that has nothing to do there). My point here is that having a specific terminology generates a sense of community and belonging.

Jargon of any kind is an interesting thing, depending on whether you like it or understand it, and it also creeps into a lot of fiction. It's always amazing to me to see some action-type stories that go into loving detail about guns, anything that has an LED or wheels, and wonderfully impressive military-style dialogue. I might not be particularly partial to it, have no idea if it's correct, but boy have these writers gone into their subject. I'm not knocking it by any means - quite the contrary. These authors are getting a message across too - their love of gadgets and guns, electronics and things that go bang. Like-minded readers will soak it up just as h/c lovers will linger for hours over flatlines, limp heroes and hospital scenes.

I personally like to think a writer's used the right word for the right thing, and feel a bit cheated if I know they haven't due to sheer sloppiness or ignorance. 'If in doubt, leave it out' seems to be a fairly good solution in many cases, particularly if you feel like writing about microchip arrays but think those are the small portions from MacDonalds.

Another approach is to find an alternative solution. Consider saying 'He let loose a torrent of French' rather than desperately seeking a French fellow-fan or aiming for some sort of hit-and-miss translation yourself if this is not your strong point.

Similarly, if you don't want to spend hours researching on weaponry, try writing a story where the action doesn't revolve around guns or where the characters are in love with their sidearms. Studying canon and trying to learn up on a subject is one thing, but if your talents lie in character studies, a story without lots of technical details might be a better bet as well as more fun if you're allergic to a certain type of vocabulary.

Sure, go read, learn and inwardly digest and break new ground if you like, but if you set yourself an objective that's going to be too much like hard work than fun you might get sickened with the whole idea. I still don't know why I started a story on the Mafia, but I do know that it's driving me nuts. At least I can play with other character-based things as well while I either get the information I want or find a decent way of avoiding it!

As a last topic, I'm going to touch briefly on vocabulary in general. This of course depends on what sort of mood you're aiming for, not to mention how many words you know or are able to bring into something. Like with foreign languages, people always recognise more than they use (or use correctly anyway).

English is a remarkably rich language and it's nice to use it to 'paint' with. Even so, there's not much point in throwing in pretty words if you get the meaning or context wrong - a dictionary is a handy thing indeed. There's a world of difference between 'baited breath' and 'bated breath', for instance. A thesaurus is a nice addition too. Grammar books can be useful as long as you realise none of them ever agree with each other on certain topics.

It's lovely to see writing where the words are varied and evocative. It's even more stunning when the vocabulary matches the style of the piece. A piece of skilful narrative that sets a mood thanks to calling on the senses, plus dialogue that rings true and uses words that you can 'hear' the characters using is wonderful.

What's a little less interesting is when either the narrative is stiff and sterile:

Doyle walked in and realised that Bodie was unhappy. He made a cup of tea for him. They talked for a while.

This is the whole 'show not tell' thing that many a 'how-to' site on writing covers better than I ever could. The above example is of course an exaggeration, but there are a million ways of depicting this setting other than these three short sentences. It's Doyle's POV, so how does Bodie look or move or speak to indicate he's not happy ? Are there dirty cups in the sink, for instance, in a normally tidy flat? Does Bodie answer in monosyllables when they talk? Picture it in your mind, and words can come flooding in.

On the other hand, bringing in too many words, such as in dialogue is just as awful. Even good fictional dialogue is way more coherent than a 'real' conversation - you only have to record a bit of everyday speech to realise that. People don't finish sentences, go off on tangents, and most readers would quickly get frustrated with the incoherency of it all.

Also, and unless somebody's really pontificating, they don't go into huge detail, or at least not all at once. Imagine Bodie saying this.

"I felt somewhat depressed this morning, Ray. I'm low, blue, and definitely under par. I couldn't hear the birds singing joyfully, and it's as though my heart is heavy for some reason. If only I could determine the reason, I believe I would be something of a happier man. I do realise you feel for me and my grief, and thank you for your constant support."'

Finally, if you do need a character spilling his guts and making a long monologue, it's easy to lose a reader however interesting the words and their juxtaposition may be. This means it's worth breaking up the bulk of it. Add something like a gesture of twisting a glass in hands, throwing a newspaper on the table, or even pacing the room. That gives a break, heightens the feeling of 'being there' and it doesn't just sound like a speech.

I expect it's fairly clear from all I've said that I don't have a lot of patience with what could generously be described as 'sloppy' writing or use of language in general. There's really no excuse for it beyond, perhaps, a very enthusiastic newbie's first piece ever.

In an ideal world, of course, competent editors would immediately offer their services and the writer would soar to the heights of literary competence in next to no time, never looking back. Sadly, this isn't always the case.

That's my preference, of course, but insistent voices in the world of fan fiction disagree completely. Accuracy in general? No time for it. Spelling and grammar? Details! Anachronisms, complete disregard for facts? So what! This is Art with a very large Capital 'A' so nobody dare touch it or the author will throw a major hissy fit and be Most Upset. The creative flow is sacred. This story is a gift and even if it's shoddy it was crafted with love. And anyway I write for myself (despite the fact I throw it onto the Net with the little mention 'feedback welcome').

Yes I know sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, but I'm one of those weird Editor people who can so often Ruin It All by questioning whether Doyle really would speak fluent Cantonese or stating a preference for punctuation to be present and correct. It doesn't mean I'll delete or ignore a story out of hand if it is sloppy but I'm more open to other aspects of it if it's not.

As always, in anything you do, it's worthwhile deciding what you're aiming for. Do you want to write a story that will impress people by your foreign language skills / knowledge of a specific area / use of appropriate jargon or vocabulary? If that's of major importance in what you're trying to do, is it worth spending time to get it right, or are you prepared to tread on very thin ice if you just chuck a story out there without doing your homework? I think my own take on that is rather clear.

If you don't irritate the linguists or the weapons experts, for instance, they might actually focus on the other aspects of the story. After all, isn't the whole idea for people to see what's good about what you've written or at least criticise the key issues in it rather than being side-tracked by inaccuracy in others?

This brings us rather neatly to criticism, or feedback on stories. Most writers appreciate this, and it's yet another form of communication that needs to be two-way and that requires a highly specific form of language. For my long rant on feedback, by the way, see: A story: a consumer item?

Your critic or feedbacker is - one hopes - trying to tell you something, in his or her words. Ideally, these words should be clear, unambiguous and devoid of hidden meanings. I'm not saying they shouldn't be polite, just that any critique should get a message across without the recipient having to wonder what it really means.

This is a very different kettle of fish to a lot of fiction, whose merit often lies partly in what isn't written but depends on the mood your words create and what they suggest (i.e. the subtext). Subtext does rear its head in reviews and feedback, however, and I personally think it has no place there. Some writers are sensitive to the point of paranoia and will take anything that isn't crystal clear wrongly - and of course some critics do make comments that are intentionally and unnecessarily cutting. Getting the message over in both directions without fur flying in some cases is no easy task.

However, since I'm talking about what is written rather than what isn't here, it's hardly the place to get into that so I won't go into it very deeply except for a couple of examples.

If somebody says simply 'You have an interesting way with words', what do they mean? Does this indicate your vocabulary is fascinating, or is it a subtly veiled way of saying '. because the words sure don't hang together properly and half of them are spelled wrong.' Does 'This was thought-provoking' mean that the only thought you've provoked is the impression that you're an illiterate halfwit?

It's hard to receive 'criticism' at face value anyway, and even worse when you have a feeling there's more to a comment than meets the eye. As both a giver and receiver of feedback I much prefer either a simple 'hey, I liked it' or 'you have an interesting way with words because you always make Doyle sound aggressive, such as that scene where he .'. Both types of comment are useful and leave no room for hidden meanings.

In short, feedback is another case where it's important to get the right message across in the right way, always remembering that we're all in this for fun. It doesn't mean we can't or shouldn't produce something that is as polished as possible, but it's very different from situations where an editor is paid to get out the red pencil or a writer is expected to be familiar with basic grammar. In 'real life' publishing and editing, kid gloves are often missing, but in amateur writing a little extra courtesy isn't a luxury.

To conclude, here's my own take on language, jargon and accuracy in general when getting any message at all across. For feedback, criticism or editing, I aim for 'clear and polite' all the way, with varying degrees of success in the eyes of my victims, no doubt. For fiction, I like to get my facts sufficiently right to be to be taken seriously or to find a way around whatever it is if I can't or don't want to. Sure, I'll also stretch the truth / canon at times if it suits both me and the story I'm writing, but preferably not enough to really mess up in the eyes of any better-informed reader.

I've made blunders galore, too and will no doubt continue to do so. This is she who got managed to get a character's first names wrong (despite being a fan for over 20 years). I usually get my 'foreign' bits right, and as a translator my vocabulary's reasonably wide - that's in my favour. On the other hand, I blithely side-step anything to do with mechanical things or numbers and desperately need an editor to go beyond Bill Gates' spell checker to find dropped words, let alone spot major plotholes.

Finding your own balance and satisfaction within your writing plus taking advantage of your strengths (not to mention getting help where needed) is - I think - going to make you feel better about that while thing. You're never ever going to please everybody, or even yourself, all the time (to end with yet another cliché) but it's always handy to be aware of some of the pitfalls.

Nobody likes to get the message across wrongly and fall on their cul, Arsch , ass or backside when not strictly necessary because of a detail or two!

March 2002

Any feedback welcome: [email protected]