Debi sat in the witness
stand, her long hair in a neat fold on the back of her head. She wondered if
she could avoid perjury by creatively answering the gray-haired, arrogant, no-necked
prosecuting attorney’s questions.
“Didn’t you, in fact,
use the word “looked” in your first chapter a total of three times, and
similarly, the word “glanced” twice?”
Jerk. Of course he’d
ask questions designed specifically for yes or no answers—only an idiot would misunderstand.
Idiot speaking here –“I
always restrict those verbs to situations where absolutely necessary, but I
didn’t count how many instances were necessary in this particular chapter.”
“Yes or no?” the
attorney asked.
Geez, could they cut
down on the furniture oil in this place? The lemon smell was nauseating. Debi
clasped her hands tighter together in her lap, as if that would help her
nerves. At least she wasn’t shaking. Not on the outside, anyway.
“I don’t recall the exact
number of times,” she said. “Overused verbs can usually be avoided, because—”
In a half-turn toward
the jury, the prosecutor said, “Ms O’Neille, a yes or no, please.”
“You don’t need to tell readers that a character is looking at something—”
“Your Honor, ple-e-ease,”
the prosecutor said to the judge, who expelled a long sigh.
“Not when you're in
that character’s point of view,” Debi continued, “and you describe the
something being looked at.”
She had him there. He
seemed a bit confused. He rubbed a finger over his brow. Oh how she wanted to
smile.
“So by your own
admission, it’s likely you didn’t need to use either looked or glanced in your
writing, and yet you did; isn’t that true?”
Well holy cookies and
ice cream—of course I did. Who doesn’t? “Again, sir, I don’t recall.” Oops. That
might be a little white one. She didn’t remember how many times she’d used
either word, but she did believe she’d used them. At least once. Or more.
“Ms O’Neille, would you
like me to repeat the question?”
Which was …? “I’m sure
I would have used them a time or two, but there are situations where it isn’t
ridiculous for them to be included in a great sentence. For instance—”
“That will be all,” the
attorney said, his shark gaze right on her. “No further questions.”
The heat of seven hells
washed through Debi, a mixture of anger, frustration, and humiliation. Anger
because she hated being cut off, as if what she had to say didn’t matter. Probably
a lot of ex-husbands in the world had become exes for that very tactic. The
frustration stemmed because she had a good answer, right on the tip of her
tongue, and though no one was waiting for it, she wanted to let it out. The
humiliation sprang from the collision of anger and frustration, which no doubt
showed in bright flaming color on her face. She worked her hands in her lap.
Would it be legal to ask to be excused?
She was saved from
further worry when her own attorney addressed her. “Ms O’Neille, you looked like you had something to say at
the end of that … battering interrogation.”
“Objection,” the
prosecutor shouted.
The long-faced judge
looked at the defense attorney. “Mr. Diehl, please rephrase your statement, and
perhaps you could ask a question.”
“Yes, Your Honor.” He
smiled then trained his dark eyes on her. “Would you please share what you had
been about to say?”
“I was simply going to
explain that there are times when looked
and glanced aren’t errors in
understanding how point of view works, so it’s only natural they’d show up in
anyone’s writing, including mine. For instance, when the narration directs the
reader to watch a character who is not
the point-of-view character, but a secondary character who is glancing or
looking about, then we can use those words. We wouldn’t be in that character’s
point of view, and the point-of-view character would certainly notice and
report if the other person looked in a certain direction or gazed at anything
specific. The point-of-view character would describe that little action of the
other character turning his attention to this or that, whatever the case may
be.”
“So, to simplify, you’re
saying that using looked and glanced in your work might have been a deliberate
decision?”
“Exactly. You just
can’t use them too close together in a paragraph or per page, or they’ll echo. You’ll
see that when you read this transcript.” She nodded toward the court reporter.
The defense attorney
smiled at the judge. “I have no more questions, Your Honor.”
When Debi stepped down
from the witness stand, with all the smug arrogance of a true writer, she
walked with an air of royalty, chin up and eyes welcoming to the many smiles she
expected to see. “Case closed,” she said to no one in particular. “And so, I
rest my case on the case of looked and glanced.”