47631 cr points
Send Message: Send PM GB Post
18 / M / Tiphares
Online
Posted 3/9/14 , edited 3/9/14
What is prose?

http://literarydevices.net/prose/

What is good prose? What is bad prose?

http://bookviewcafe.com/blog/2012/07/23/25523/

http://literarylab.blogspot.com/2009/08/overwritten-prose.html

Pretty much, if you took the time to skim/read the two articles/blogs/whatever above, you'll find that like with nearly everything else in the world, whether or not a person's written prose is good or not is up to the individual. Thoughts?

And furthermore, how would you describe your prose as? Meaning, how do you put your story into words? Simple sentences? Complex paragraphs? What?

For me, personally, I prefer simplicity. As an example, I'll put something from that Shingeki no Kyojin fan-fiction that I can't get enough of mentioning any chance I get, heh:


The pain. It was still there as she stumbled through scrubs and bushes, scratching up her legs and tearing her clothes on the thorns. The pain. It was still there as she continued to follow a path that was still partially visible. Wherever it led to, was still there. It kept her going, the thought of shelter. A warm place. Clearing through more brush she finally came to it: a church. From the outside, it looked relatively intact and the steps leading to its front doors weren't that badly weathered. Crawling on her hands up the steps — her strength quickly fading — she weakly pushed on one of the doors and it creaked as she eased herself inside. There was a long row of wooden pews on either side up and down the long, and fairly large, room. There were statues and crosses adorning the ledges along the walls, some broken and some not. The ceiling was very high up and all the windows were missing their stained glass décor. At the very front was a lone podium, and behind it, an altar. There were two large statues flanking both sides of the altar, and as she peered closer, she took note that they were something she had forgotten long ago. Something she couldn't seem to remember clearly, the depiction of what it was. What they were called.


On a side note, I see one or two things I could edit to make it (the example) sound better, at least to me, anyway.
32975 cr points
Send Message: Send PM GB Post
25 / M / Smack-dab in the...
Offline
Posted 3/14/14
I think, and I'm just spit-balling here, but I think it needs more cowbell.
12377 cr points
Send Message: Send PM GB Post
25 / M / California
Offline
Posted 3/15/14
For me, good prose tends to be provocative and/or meaningful without being cliche.

Sounds simple but cliches are so abundant that it's harder than you think to avoid them. This is why hearing something fresh is so great. I think that is what good prose is. Something fresh and great.
PRose- 
10549 cr points
Send Message: Send PM GB Post
74 / F / GDragon's bedroom...
Offline
Posted 4/18/14
HOly shit, I thought this was about me ..

47631 cr points
Send Message: Send PM GB Post
18 / M / Tiphares
Online
Posted 4/18/14

PRose- wrote:

HOly shit, I thought this was about me ..



Maybe it is... dun dun dunnnn
6421 cr points
Send Message: Send PM GB Post
24 / F
Offline
Posted 4/19/14 , edited 4/19/14
I think it's something you know when you see it. For me, the greatest prose writer was Wallace Stegner. I can never put my finger on exactly what he does that is great, only that it all works so beautifully and naturally. Here is a short passage from one of my favorite short stories of his, called The Women on the Wall. It's set during WWII and the main character is a writer who is observing a group of women daily as they wait for letters from their husbands at war.


Sometimes Mr. Palmer used to pause in his writing and speculate on what these women thought of when they looked out across the gumdrop-blue water and the brown kelp and remembered that across this uninterrupted ocean their husbands fought and perhaps bled and possibly died, that in those far islands it was already tomorrow, that the green water breaking against the white foot of the beach might hold in suspension minute quantities of the blood shed into it thousands of miles away, that the Japan Current, swinging in a great circle up under the Aleutians and back down the American coast, might as easily bear the mingled blood or the floating relics of a loved one lost as it could bear the glass balls of Japanese net-floats that it sometimes washed ashore.


So good. I think I need a bit more practice with my own writing. I write like an amateur. When I read something like this all the words taste so good, but when I read something of my own, it always seems a bit off. I know all the rules and I have a theoretical understanding of what I need to do to make it sound good, but it never quite happens.
You must be logged in to post.