So put yourself in this hypothetical frame of mind: you’re about to purchase a novel (a stretch for some of you, I’m sure), you’re reading the back cover blurb, and you discover this nugget of information:

While you’re here, if you know of any examples of novels written in 30 days or less — that don’t suck, like a mudslide in a collapsing mineshaft — please let me know in the comments below. (You can’t mention your own novel, unless it was published by a company that paid you, and copies were sold to people you don’t know.)

I’m amazed that the voting was spread so evenly — every option received at least 7 votes. These clichés really are hated. And yet writers keep dragging the corpses of these old ideas into the limelight, mercilessly flogging them until every bystander is spattered with rotten, purulent droplets of fetid clichéflesh.

Of course, this wasn’t an exhaustive list of every living cliché. I left out many genre-specific examples — like the detective who is “haunted by demons from his past”¹, which is such a mainstay of crime fiction that it’s almost a defining characteristic of the genre. I also left out the deus ex machina and the “I woke up and it was all a dream”, critical storytelling flaws that only seem like clichés because writers fall back on them so often.

From the results we can see that the most hated storytelling clichés are the Designated Hottie (at best, sexist, and at worst, sexist pornofantasy), the Mary Sue (just write your fsckin’ autobiography — then burn it), and the Prophecy (thanks for telling me the ending on page 12).

But, in a result that surprised me, the overall winner was the clichéd phrases — “Little did he know”, “would change his life forever” or “he loved her. He really loved her.” I assume that most voters (correctly) interpreted this choice as representative of cliché phrases in general, not just these three.

Clearly, readers are prepared to put up with clichéd plots and repetitive story elements — in many cases, it’s the clichés that define the genre, and give readers the confidence to purchase a book by an unfamiliar author. But clichéd language, no matter the genre, is always a distraction, a jolt out of the fictional world, back to the painful reality that the writer just didn’t care enough to think of something interesting to say.

For the intrepid software developer, this is a market niche — the challenge of automatically detecting story clichés is beyond the capacity of computers, but the detection of repetitive phrases is trivial. Vast databases of clichéd phrases are already in existence. Perhaps as a standalone tool, or in the next version of MS Word, we will see this message:

Warning: Clichéd phrase. Consider revising, with something original.

I’d like to compile a poll of ten or so of the most egregious pills that authors hope readers will swallow, so we can vote for the Mother of All Clichés. But there’s no fun in me just picking clichés at random. I don’t read all that widely, outside of DSM-IV and Watchtower magazine, so I’m not familiar with the worst offenders in every genre.

Send me an email (seanlindsay@hotmail.com) nominating the clichés that make you wonder if the author has read anything in the genre at all. They can be words, phrases, characters or plot elements, and you can nominate as many as you like. (You can post a comment if you’re paranoid about email.)

I’ll pick the best (and by that I mean worst, or the ones I can make funny) and create a poll in the coming days.

Once voting is over, I’ll tell you the cliché I hate most.

If you’ve missed any, or you’re yearning to know if you’re one of the herd, all the 101 Reasons Polls are listed below.

Each poll has an Intro link, where I tried to tell people why they should care enough to vote on this bullshit topic, and a Results link, where I detail just how few people could be bothered. You could just read the Results, I guess, but the Intros contain some pertinent abuse you might otherwise miss.

(If you’re one of those people who just have to feel their opinion counts for something, the polls are still open, so if you didn’t vote before, or you’ve cleared your browser cookies, feel free to game the results. I’ll update if they change significantly.)

The polls:

1. Find out if you’re in your own demographic: Did you buy any books by debut authors last year?
   Intro Results Vote
    
2. I slept in most of January: Why do you think Sean’s been so slow to update this month? (This entire year, really.)
   Intro Results Vote
    
3. You can’t lose it if you never write it: Do you back up your writing?
   Intro Results Vote
    
4. It’s Slushpile Awareness Month, all this year: What do you think of the Slushpile?
   Intro Results Vote
    
5. Because ‘professional’ doesn’t always mean they behave like one: What’s the longest you’ve waited for a response to a submission?
   Intro Results Vote
    
6. Because I’m shit out of ideas: What do you want to see on 101 Reasons?
   Intro Results Vote
    

More polls to come, whenever I realise it’s been weeks since I posted anything.

Respondents were permitted to choose more than one option, but the poll service counted each choice as a separate vote, making the results statistically meaningless. At least you couldn’t vote more than once (unless you’re cookiephobic), so we can be reasonably sure that 50+ people voted.

The Question: What do you want to see on 101 Reasons?

The Results:

25% (45 votes) More Reasons! I’m this close to quitting, I just need a push.

6% (10 votes) More Interviews, preferably with people I’ve heard of.

12% (21 votes) Weekend Updates! I need more stuff to procrastinate and obsess over.

30% (53 votes) Anything, just make it funny. I find your transparent sarcasm reassuring.

13% (24 votes) Anything, just make it cruel. My ego is overtaking my self-loathing.

2% (3 votes) More Polls! I like to know I’m not the only one here.

4% (8 votes) More personal stuff. I’m stalking you, but I’m lazy.

1% (1 votes) Generic blogosphere memes, punditry and other navel-gazing fluff. Got a cat?

2% (3 votes) Give up already. You haven’t saved one tortured adverb.

6% (10 votes) Would you review my manuscript?

Total votes: 178

Oh, you three people who voted for ‘Give up already’, you have cut me to the quick. You are the ointment in my fly. 

Although the methodology is deeply flawed, we can make up some interesting conclusions from these data.

Obviously, most of you want more Reasons, your writerly phantasies having survived #1-14 more or less intact. But can it be true that less than half the people who want funny also want cruel? (Reminds of an old Dave Allen joke, which I will humourlessly paraphrase thus: ‘Hurt me,’ said the masochist to the sadist, and the sadist said ‘No.’)

To the folks who voted for Weekend Updates, you may get your wish soon enough. To those who voted for more personal stuff, I say: pick up the damn phone. If you don’t know the number, it’s none of your damn business.

Manuscript review? If you think your ego can handle a serve of fresh, steaming reality from me, you may as well just keep submitting. The result is the same.

Just for fun, I thought I’d pretend that I desperately crave validation from a gaggle of smug he’s-not-talking-about-me slushdwellers and the random assortment of weirdos who find their way here from Google searches. So, this week’s poll gives you the opportunity to tell me what kind of content you want to see more of at 101 Reasons.

With this poll, you can choose more than one option. You could choose every option, I suppose – but that would be statistically meaningless and redundant, just like your writing. 

Disclaimer: I absolutely will not take this into account when I choose what to write about. Maybe next year we’ll look back and see how closely your expectations match my whimsy.

It was specified that a response had to be received. Otherwise, 97% would choose the “Never” option, because they’re still waiting for a response from Hopelessly Underfunded Spur-of-the-Moment Vanity Project #1 and Harlan Ellison’s The Last Dangerous Visions.

Shout out to Nathan’s homies. ‘Other’ responses included specific periods (3 months and 6 months), one respondent who misunderstood the exclusion on ‘Never’, and one respondent who had to beat a answer from an editor. I imagine it was a ‘No’.

The most important result is that 31% of you have not submitted for publication yet — so there’s still hope! Stop writing now while you can still deny you ever entertained this ridiculous fantasy.

There’s also a bunch of you who are fsckin’ liars — no-one submitted more stories to the same publisher while waiting to hear about the first one?

This poll has been reopened. The ‘Other’ option has been removed because the current polling system doesn’t support it.

What’s the longest you’ve ever had to wait for a response to a submission? Note that I said response. 97% of people voting for “I’m still waiting” just isn’t funny.

Vote in the sidebar.

Please note: the ‘Other’ option only takes about 100 characters. Your opus will be truncated.

I don’t think I even know 74 people.

Good to see that Meika is still reading. How’s that web 2.0 working for you?

It’s clear from these results that the only winner is ignorance. When you’re not busy pouring more slop on the pile, you’re pretending it’s someone else’s problem. I may have to poll your opinions on recycling and global warming.

This poll has been reopened for voting, so if you haven’t voted already, or want to game the system by voting again, go ahead:

Vote in the sidebar. Pick the answer that best reflects your opinion. I need to know how many disaffected Slushdwellers read this blog before PublishAmerica will buy ad space.