I have trouble writing sections or characters that are supposed to come off gritty and brash. Unfiltered profanity, adult themes, and content that would make a sailor blush, sort of like Chaucer’s Miller. My problem is that teenagers speak the same way, but it doesn’t have the same type of undertones: think Holden in The Catcher in the Rye. What kinds of things can I do to make sure a hard as nails warrior doesn’t come off sounding like a whining teenager or vise-versa?
I think knowing how to swear is a big advantage. Timing, word choice, a demonstrated proficiency with profanity as opposed to a wild use of the worst words for the sake of it. Every instance cannot be some form of "fuck." It's too easy. It might help sell the grit if characters have discernible lexicons of swear words. Not all swear words are created equal (especially not culturally), and a traditionally "lighter" swear word might have more impact in the right context than a more traditionally "heavy" swear word. So I think demonstrating personality and purpose will help draw that line between gritty and juvenile. But I'm just the first opinion, and I'm sure there are many more.
I don't care about literally anything else GoT has to offer; that has always been my favorite moment.
Actually, I may have some advice. I was watching this thread because the issue came up in the comments on something I posted in the workshop. Maybe those replies can help you. https://www.writingforums.org/threads/the-god-machine-ch1-2011w.154096/ EDIT: oh, just noticed you were one of the people commenting there! Never mind then
As one thought, I'd expect a teenager to be trying to impress when they speak that way. I don't mean that they're trying to make someone like them, but they're trying to get some effect.
This. The swearing has to match the character's level of intelligence and maturity, and possibly education.There's a big difference between saying "fuck" for shock value of it and using it because you find it useful, in the right context, as a verb, or a noun, or an adjective, or an adverb, or a word used with pleasure, or a word used with hate. A teen or tween going for shock value won't have (or won't care about) those wordsmithing skills. I know of what I speak. I swear like a damn sailor, and I'm careful about which word I use for emphasis.
It's cultural too. Consider the background of your character and the culture you're writing for. Some cultures (not necessarily nationalities, but there's a big overlap) consider swears just words like any other and don't assign a taboo, others consider it a separate category of language. For example, writing by Americans for Americans tends to be very clean, so if you're worried, that's a factor to consider.
It's not a single word that makes it hit hard, it's the ideas and the tone which carry them. If your MC is just spitting out vulgarities, he's going to sound like a pretender. I mean, a swear or two can be a part of the message, but it shouldn't be the message, or it's all bluster. And it's even worse when it's written out in your story, because it loses its impact twice as quick. Like a teenager swearing nonstop, oddly enough. Look at this one example . . . Only one very mild swear, but it has the tone and attitude: No one chooses to become a banker. It just happens, like cancer, and then you try to live with it as long as you can. After thirteen years in the industry, I was damn near terminal. With each step up the corporate ladder I received a slightly smaller laptop, a slightly-harder-to-adjust office chair. To compensate they offered free donuts and coffee cards. Weekends off. 401 vesting. Medical insurance that I had to have because they were turning me into a half-blind hunchback with diabetes. Here's another. Look how ominous this cat is, and not a swear in sight. (There are plenty elsewhere in the book, but they were avoided here because the message carries it all.) I love this bit of dialog: Dan the Man opened a briefcase and pulled out a twenty-two caliber Rossi revolver with a homemade shampoo-bottle silencer. It looked like the work of some ambitious high school kid. "We shootin' rattlesnakes?" I said, and took out my Beretta. "Traceable," Dan the Man said. "But a twenty-two," I said with obvious disgust. "What are you, dumb?" Eddie said. "You know who shoots twenty-twos?" "Plinkers. Old ladies. Eagle Scouts?" "Exactly," Eddie said and puffed on his cigar. "Looks like some crackhead loser did it. Tried to rob the place. Messed things up a bit. Dug through some dresser drawers." "But will a twenty-two get the job done?" "Ask Bobby Kennedy," Eddie said. I'd suggest making a notebook of tough guy dialog by the pros. Just get some ebooks and paste out the sections you find most badass. Get 30 or 40 pages of those (source them too so you can go back to original work/author), then look for devices that are making those bits work. I think you'll find you can make things absolutely brutal with the vocabulary still PG-13. You step it up to NC-17 where needed and it bites hard. Looking at devices: The first quote is succeeding through clever use of rhythm. The content is bleak, but it's how the sentences flow (especially at the end) that carries the load. I guess I won't spell it out because I'm not sure anyone cares. . . The second excerpt is using perfect dialog, just flawless, really. One tiny elision, not done to excess. Null subjects perfectly placed. Fragments too. The real killer (IMO) is the understatement: "What are you, dumb?" It's rude, but not really, considering what the character is. It's so subdued that the message that follows stands out. (I should probably qualify those . . . Jeremy Robert Johnson's the first and the second's John Prindle.)
