Personally, I don’t have that much of a problem with it being used in language if it is appropriate for the book. If it’s a YA book, then to make it real, the characters are bound to use it in overdoses. But I do draw the line to the number of times it’s being used.

when I pick up a book, i want to be taken to the place where the story takes place, i want to be pat of it and witness it on my own. But if the language just goes on profanity, then that vision of going through circumstances with the characters just doesn’t seem so good.

My feeling on Mamet’s quote is that he is alluding to the fact that the use of profanity can be symptomatic of a laziness. While I’m not disputing that there are valid occasions for it’s use, it is overuse that reduces the impact that might be intended, which then becomes a red queen scenario, where one is required to increase the “profane-ness” of profanity to elicit the same response from desensitised readers.

As a general rule, if I find that I am required to use the word ‘fuck’ or its ilk, either in conversation or silently to myself, it is in frustration and / or pain. The word has its place, but the english language is rich with descriptors, and ‘fuck’ is rarely the best word in any given situation. It might convey the message, it might elicit a response, the question is whether a better word could have been used, and whether the writer was prepared to look for it.

And while there is no doubting the level of profanity used in general teen conversation, which should be reflected in YA writing, the challenge for an author is to rise above that mediocrity of that kind of conversation, which is hardly inspiring, motivating, or attention sustaining.

Damon:  Thanks for your comment!

The poster quoting Mamet used it in relation to profanity in novels. Re overuse: Trainspotting has to have resonated with more than a few people to enjoy the massive success it’s had and check out the excerpt on amazon. Would it have been the same without the profanity? I think there is a vague line when it comes to ‘how much is too much’ because I think good writing trumps all, including frequent use of the word fuck et al. The only time I’ve noticed profanity as being awkward or overdone or badly done is when the writing surrounding it was weak. And I’ve yet to have my reading experience hindered by anyone using the word.

Tristian below made a good point–”we, as people, give words power.” And I agree with that. Looking over my YA and all the fucks that have sprung up, I believe the impact is determined by the context and not the word itself. Perhaps fuck is not as entirely powerless as I thought it was but I don’t think it enjoys the same stand-alone reactions it used to get. In fact, I would go so far as to suggest that fuck isn’t really profane anymore–it’s been ‘reduced’ to word status.

The english language is definitely rich with descriptors but I would argue about fuck rarely being the best word in any given situation. I think the word has evolved enough (considering how common place it has become for people–teens and adults alike–to use it to express themselves) that it has ‘go-to’ status now and is less of a resource when it comes to sensationalising text, or forcing people to react to it. Many turns of phrases starring fuck have grown out of it’s evolution of a word. Referencing my own YA, if I were to omit the word fuck in most of the places I used it, I truly believe I would hurt the punch and flow of what I’ve written. I also don’t think that the use of the word fuck in dialogue/conversation is mediocre, uninspiring, unmotivating or non-attention sustaining. I think whole novels can definitely be all of those things but it has little to do with profanity.

Ack, this comment has turned into a blog entry!

Yo, I keep thinking about how effective “it gets so FUCKING cold” is in Northern Lad. Why’s that? Because it’s unexpected? Or sung heartbreakingly? I think profanity can go both ways. To me it ultimately has to do with what the story is calling for.