The perks of invisible prose

Mastering the style of simplicity

Earlier this year, a hateful article came out about Brandon Sanderson. This could be considered a response to that article, but Sanderson can defend himself and has done so already. What baffled me the most was the writer’s repeated assessment that Sanderson’s writing was bad.

I understand that there are “literary” types that frown on genre fiction. Still, I would argue that successfully crafting an entire world (setting, characters, magic system, etc.) while nailing pacing, plot, theme, and action is as comparable an art form as saying things in a prettier way.

Therefore, I’d like to talk about invisible prose and why it could be effective for many writers trying to break into fiction writing. Some might take this as me advocating for “less style,” but that is not the case. It depends on what you are writing and your objectives as an author. Nor am I bashing poetry or any poetic forms of writing. I, myself, dabble in poetry. I’m merely advocating on behalf of the power of invisible prose to deliver complex information to the reader in the simplest possible way.

I hate that people conflate easy-to-read with not-as-well-written. Easy to read can mean very well-written. Just because something is dense doesn’t mean it’s brilliant by default. ~ Daniel Greene

First, what is prose?

Prose refers to written or spoken language that does not adhere to a specific metrical structure or poetic form. It is the dominant form of written communication, used in everyday conversation, storytelling, essays, novels, and various forms of non-fiction.

Now, let’s define invisible prose:

“Invisible prose”, or beige prose, describes a simple, clear, and straightforward style to immerse the reader in the story without drawing attention to the writing itself. Authors who write in this style aim to make the reader forget they’re reading a book.

Some examples include:

• “The Da Vinci Code” by Dan Brown

• “Harry Potter” series by J.K. Rowling

• “The Hunger Games” series by Suzanne Collins

It’s worth noting that there is no “correct” way to write. It’s a subjective preference. Many forms serve different purposes and stories. Multiple styles can be implemented in the same body of work to varying degrees. Therefore, few books can be categorized entirely in one style. It’s merely a point of awareness and the intent behind their usage.

The main reasons I seek to use invisible prose

• Clarity: The writer can direct readers’ attention to the characters, their development, and the story. The story takes center stage, conveying vital information and advancing the plot, avoiding unnecessary detours or digressions, and keeping the writing focused and purposeful.

• Versatility: It can adapt to different genres and storytelling styles. Readers can follow writers across genres. If they tend to like the style of writing, then they’re more apt to pick up your Fantasy novel after reading your Cyberpunk one.

• Universality: Invisible prose generally results in writing that is easy to comprehend. It can be particularly beneficial for reaching a wider audience as it appeals to readers across various age groups, cultural backgrounds, and reading preferences.

  • It’s not going to work on all readers, nor is it a guarantee that it’ll make your story better. For example, some sci-fi readers prefer Hard Science Fiction emphasizing the complexity of the systems employed within the setting (think The Martian with its detailed pages explaining botany and chemistry). However, as a writer, implementing invisible prose could enable you to write in a genre you may have once been too afraid to tackle due to its imposed “rules.”

The cardinal virtue of prose

This YouTube video from The Legendarium channel presented an essay by Arthur Clutton-Brock called The Cardinal Virtue of Prose. In the essay, the author explains the true power of prose manifests when the reader isn’t aware of its existence while reading it. Here is the complete essay (highlights are my own):

Prose of its very nature is longer than verse, and the virtues peculiar to it manifest themselves gradually. If the cardinal virtue of poetry is love, the cardinal virtue of prose is justice; and, whereas love makes you act and speak on the spur of moment, justice needs inquiry, patience, and a control even of the noblest passions. By justice here I do not mean justice only to particular people or ideas, but a habit of justice in all the processes of thought, a style tranquillized and a form moulded by that habit.

The master of prose is not cold, but will not let any word or image inflame him with a heat irrelevant to his purpose. Unhasting, unresting, he pursues it, subduing all the riches of his mind to it, rejecting all beauties that are not germane to it; making his own beauty out of the very accomplishment of it, out of the whole work and its proportions, so that you must read to the end before you know that it is beautiful.

But he has his reward, for he is trusted and convinces, as those who are at the mercy of their own eloquence do not; and he gives a pleasure all the greater for being hardly noticed. In the best prose, whether narrative or argument, we are so led on as we read, that we do not stop to applaud the writer, nor do we stop to question him.

In a sense, this is conveying that it’s not the words themselves that are beautiful, but the overall messages, concepts, and ideas expressed by the end of the completed body of work that genuinely resonate with the reader, that the reader must be patient and trust the author’s ability to deliver on the promise presented at the outset of the story.

Stained glass versus windowpane prose

A final example I’ll bring up is the one about the “Windowpane vs. Stained Glass.” This is a concept in which the reader is standing on one side of a window and witnessing the scenes of a story unfold on the opposite side. The author constructs the glass and determines how the reader views said story. The two extremes of the glass are so transparent that the reader doesn’t see it at all or that the glass is so ornately designed that it beautifies the scene.

I’d wager that individual scenes, or chapters, in a book, might have different glass depending on the events occurring therein. It’s up to the writer to determine the appropriate glass. That’s at the heart of the artistic choice being considered.

Discussion

What is your take on invisible prose? Was this article helpful, and do you want to see more like it? Was there anything I missed or conveyed incorrectly? I can’t wait to hear your thoughts in the comments! ~ WM

---

---