What's the Opposite of Purple?

Writers have often been warned not to let their writing turn into purple prose. Language that's so flowery and ornamented that the meaning is lost. It is the written equivalent to acting's melodramatic. However, writers still are praised for prose that is poetic without going to this extreme.

Many of the writers I follow on Twitter like to post their best lines using whatever hashtag is appropriate for the day. They often pick their most poetic. The most metaphorical. The prose that paints the most extravagant picture.

I love poetry. When I was younger, poetry was my writing outlet. The dream of writing a novel was too distant, too huge a mountain to climb. But poetry was a way to be creative. To play with words. Fitting text into a meter and a rhyme scheme was like a logic puzzle that I enjoyed solving. But when I became a novelist, somehow my love of poetry didn't cross over.

A year ago, I was depressed about the prose in my novels. I wasn't even close to purple. My language was so plain and unpoetic, I dubbed it "brown prose"--the closest I could express to being the opposite of purple. I felt hopeless and untalented, but yet I reached out to others for ideas on how to improve. I thought about taking writing courses to learn.

Really, nothing came from that episode other than receiving some sympathy and encouragement from other writers. I struggled a lot with confidence in my writing for months. About six or seven months after that depressed episode, I came across a writing mentorship contest. All of the online writing community was abuzz about it. I checked it out. So many of the mentors were seeking a strong writing "voice." What was this voice concept they were all raging about?

I found lots of websites and blogs that explained voice. Basically it was another word for the style of prose that a writer used that made them distinct from other writers. I felt down about myself again. There's no way any of these mentors would like my brown prose. And yet, they kept pushing the mantra "Don't self-reject." In other words, let someone else tell you your writing isn't what they're looking for. If you don't enter the contest, there's 100% chance you won't get selected.

I followed along with the hype for the contest and learned some things along the way. But there was no way I was going to enter my crappy writing. Deadline day came. "Don't self-reject!" The mantra kept popping up in my news feed. Fine. I entered. No expectations. I went on with my life, not expecting to hear anything.

I think maybe it was a day later, not long at all, when I got a message. From a mentor. "Send me your full manuscript! I can't get enough of this voice!"

What? You must have me confused with someone else. You like the voice????? You like my brown prose? I sent the full and ended up not getting picked. But that mentor had planted the seed. Maybe I wasn't so bad after all.

I continued to explore voice. I wanted to hone mine and make it stronger. Undeniably me. My nanowrimo novel this past November was the first big attempt since the mentor encouraged me. What I kept finding on the page was voice! Strong voice. My voice. It was simple, almost sharp sometimes. Not flowery. Not ornate. Nowhere near purple. But it was good. To this day, I still feel confident about it. My brown prose. My beautiful, brown words. Crisp and to the point. Yet full of emotion.

My words. My voice. Brown is beautiful.