Give Me Italics
I said it was hers.
Italics is a bit like sugar: it’s sweet and tastes amazing but is so easy to over consume. I notice there’s a subset of writers who are drawn to italics. I think I picked up the habit from Pynchon or Crichton—I can’t remember! But its power stuck with me. Look at what it can do to the above sentence:
I said it was hers.
I said it was hers.
I said it was hers.
I said it was hers.
I said it was hers.
As we move through each word, rendering one in italics, we create an emphasis. But it’s not just about emphasising. What the italics does is create space in the writing. It leaves this gap for interpretation, drawing the reader into the narrative, almost like there’s an ambiguity of meaning, or as if we’re off-loading more of the meaning creation to the reader. I won’t go into meaning much more here, as I want to write about it separately later, but I think italics is a crucial element in squeezing out as much meaning from words as possible.
But all this comes with a word of caution. It is very easy to overindulge. Rereading old drafts of stories and novels, I find myself often wincing at my zealous use of italics. So be careful!