The potential book buyer looked mild-mannered and it turns out he was.

At a recent book selling and signing event, a man talking to the author next to me asked if there was any bad language in his books. My adjacent author friend acknowledged that there was some but that he didn’t use a lot of it and used it only where appropriate.

The man went on to complain about the cursing (by the Frank Castle/Punisher character) in the new Spider-Man movie and said it soured him on the film. (And yes, as my fellow writers know, people who are ostensibly there to consider buying a book will tell authors virtually anything that’s on their mind, even things far less relevant than cussing in the latest Marvel movie.)

I’m not sure if the man ever bought a book from my friend. I know he didn’t buy one from me, and that’s a good thing because I do include cursing in my fiction.

He sure didn’t buy a copy of FiGHTING WORDS, the Leonardo Audio anthology that has my story “A Fighting Life” in it. In my story, set in 1948, three siblings – the youngest only about 9 as the story opens – decide they can make money by staging “Nickel Fights,” charging neighborhood kids a nickel to fight them.

The siblings, especially the youngest, Marie, are pretty spectacularly foul-mouthed. One of the brothers even comments on it.

“Little sister, you cuss like a muleskinner,” Peter, (the oldest brother) tells Marie.

“She gets that from the Old Man,” Saul said.

I gave him the finger.

It was interesting timing, the guy at the book event, because author Linda Sienkiewicz’ latest newsletter showed up in my inbox this morning. “The Power of One Well-Placed “F*ck”: restraining profanity for character, tone, and impact in fiction” was the title.

Sienkiewicz argues, with merit, that a few – or even one – well-placed curse word can be more effective than a constant barrage of curses.

Also interesting timing because yesterday saw the publication of my short story “The Damn Train” by the nice folks at Roi Faineant Press (link at the bottom of this damn post). In it, the two characters, LeeLee and 10-year-old Birdie, discuss Birdie’s tendency to curse. Birdie has some elaborate rules about cursing, passed down from her mother, as you’ll see if you read my story.

By the end of the story, LeeLee has cursed, brought on by the stress of the moment.

Why do I curse, in real life and in my fiction?

I’m not entirely sure. I think I always have. Maybe my tendency to curse is brought on even more by 40 years of writing for a newspaper, which didn’t print cursewords most of my career. And I knew that and didn’t try to use them. (The most notable exception in the newspaper was when a feature writer filled in for our courts reporter in covering a murder trial. The inexperienced reporter noted in her article that one of the participants in the trial dropped the F bomb. She did more than note it: She reported it, without censoring the trial testimony or herself.

The editors didn’t catch the use of “fuck” and it got into the paper. This was an afternoon paper and the problem was caught right after the paper came out. The press run was stopped, the word was excised and papers were destroyed – with the exception of some collector’s items. And the editor who let the word past later swore she’d been on vacation that day.

I didn’t learn cursing from my parents. I don’t think I remember my dad cursing much and the only curse I can remember my mom uttering was a well-timed “Dadgummit.”

So I cant chalk it up to the way I was raised. Maybe peer pressure? “C’mon, goddammit, Keith, everybody is doing it.”

I guess we’ll never know.

Here’s a link to my story “The Damn Train.”

https://www.roifaineantpress.com/post/the-damn-train-by-keith-roysdon