Au Contraire

As my first blog commenter, Kevin Allen (full disclosure: ex boyfriend) did a great job. Though I do disagree with what he, nonetheless eloquently, says.

Though he can be an insufferable intellectual snob, I grudgingly agree with my boss on his critique of language, even if it's directed at my own (which it often is).

One of the first things he taught me one of those crisp New York mornings while briskly ripping my writing apart, was the origin of the word "cliche":

Back when newspapers were printed by fitting blocks with individual letters into a grid to make a line of type, it was time-consuming to start phrases from scratch, so sets of words, or well-known phrases that could be used over and over, were set aside to be easily inserted when needed. Thus, says my boss, the cliche was born.

A cliche, he went further, is a cardinal sin of writing. It connotes laziness and lack of chutzpha. When you could conjure up a new, more original or interesting way of saying something, and instead you dredge up a tired expression, your readers are unlikely to thank you for it -- even if it's cute.

So to Kevin: as a writer and editor, I'm well aware of where the cliche stands in the journalism world.

While calling someone a tigress in bed certainly won't destroy the entire sex experience -- just as one instance of "Joe the plumber" won't ruin an otherwise compelling article -- to me, it takes some of the chutzpah out of an act that, like good writing, gets better with zest, imagination, and innovation.