There are weird words in every industry, and the literary world is no exception. We’ve listed some of the stranger-sounding industry-specific jargon common to writers, editors, and agents that may need some clarification.

Anaphora. Too many sentences in a row that begin the same way. Sometimes this is deliberate and effective. Sometimes this is sloppy. Sometimes it is simply irritating.

Avant-garde. Usually associated with artwork, this term can also be applied to literature that is considered new or experimental. If your work has been labeled avant-garde, you can be proud of your innovation. Much better than “same ol’, same ol’.”

Backstory. The history of your characters before the book's present action.

Blurb. This sounds like a bodily function, but, in actuality, it refers to the synopsis on the back cover of the book. Its function is to “hook” the reader like a fish.

Dead metaphor. This is a poor little metaphor that is no longer relevant (“long in the tooth”) and has been overused.

Head-hopping. Jumping from one person’s thoughts to another's or switching back and forth between points of view. This is just another way to give your audience a headache.

Hook. Whether it’s the first line of a query, a novel, or part of the blurb, a hook is designed to capture the reader’s attention. We know that readers aren’t fish. But it paints a cool mental picture.

Novella. Sounds like something vaguely racy. In actuality it is a short novel (approximately half the size).

Round file. A nice word for trash can. A not-so-nice place for your manuscript to end up.

Slush pile. If you live in northern climes, the slush pile usually refers to the pile of slushy snow that threatens to grab your tires or fill up your boots. In writer’s lingo the slush pile is where the hundreds upon hundreds of unsolicited or misdirected manuscripts go—usually a dusty pile in the corner of an editor’s office.

Widows and orphans. A “widow” is the last line of the paragraph floating alone and lonely at the top of the next page. An “orphan” is the first line of a paragraph that languishes at the bottom of the page, all alone.

YA. Young adult. Or “Yikes! Anaphora!”

Feedback from critiques, editors, and agents can also contain some confusing notations we should clarify. Your MS is voicey and organic but switches POV indiscriminately. What the heck? Translation: Your manuscript has a strong, well-defined voice and rings true and authentic, but your point of view switches back and forth. Comments like “Boring and too long” or “I hated this” are fairly self-explanatory. Others are not quite as clear.

No legs. Can your idea or novel stand on its own in the big, scary market? If not, your work may suffer from “no legs.” (You see the metaphor.)

Organic. No, not vegetables. This is writing that is authentic, uncontrived. If your character is organic, it means he comes across as real, not as an artificial, unrealistic protagonist with zero faults and great, big muscles.

Quiet. This work has been labeled as more literary than commercial and, therefore, harder to sell.

Stale. Again, a food reference. If your story has been labeled stale, it’s time to take a “fresh” approach.

Tight. Good job! You’ve eliminated all the unnecessary filler and made it nice and concise and really tried to be spare with your words and things like that, which makes your writing not too padded and fluffy, and you have taken out all the nonessentials.

What the heck is a sniglet? According to comedian Rich Hall, who coined the phrase in the 1980s HBO series, Not Necessarily the News, a sniglet is "any word that doesn't appear in the dictionary, but should." Obviously, this is not a new concept. People have been making up their own words since the days of woolly mammoths. But Mr. Hall is the man who came up with a name for these neologisms, and that seems to be a specialty of his. His keen insight into American culture, a fascination with the English language, and a dry wit led him to publish five collections of sniglets—his own, as well as submissions from his fans.

So, for instance, if you're looking for a term to describe the affliction of dialing a phone number and forgetting who you were calling just as they answer, Hall has created a word especially for you: phonesia. He also came up with the very useful "carperpetuation," which finally gives us a way to describe the act of running the vacuum over a string or piece of lint dozens of times, reaching over to pick it up, examining it, and then putting it back down to give the vacuum one last chance. It's about time someone came up with a term for that scenario.

Even Oprah Winfrey's gotten into the act with slumpadinka (a woman who dresses like she's given up on herself, and it shows). So it's only logical that, as writers, we should have our own set of sniglets. For example:                                                           

Barfiage—the act of effortlessly "spewing" the perfect poem, short story, or chapter in one writing session. (The act of effortlessly spewing a fabulous poem, short story, or chapter that needs absolutely no revision is called a "miracle.")

Blockberry—the slightly scary assistant who stands between you and your editor/agent every time you call

Criticut—a member of a writers' group who scribbles a single derogatory word across the front page of your work (DRIVEL!) but offers no other comment whatsoever

Chickencrit—a member of a writers' group who offers plenty of criticism and advice, yet never, ever offers up their own work for scrutiny

Embarrasqueak—the excited noise one makes when the answer to a perplexing plot question (for example) strikes at an inappropriate time, such as in the middle of a staff meeting or at a funeral for the kids' hamster

Embarrastare—the blank stare on a writer's face when lost in thought, again at inopportune and embarrassing moments

Frusta-freeze—an inexplicably frozen computer screen (and the inexplicable error message that follows)

Keybored—the act of aimlessly surfing the Web when you should be working

Queternity—the amount of time that elapses between sending out a query and hearing something back

Repeat-a-cut—a paper cut that keeps getting reopened

Wikiholica—person with a tragic addiction to Wikipedia

Zoomilocation—A future Olympic event, zoomilocation describes the act of zipping around your office on a chair with wheels

And there's an actual term that describes that elusive word just on the tip of your tongue—you know, the word so elusive that nothing remotely similar comes to mind, so even your thesaurus can't help you?

And, finally, one more. Rich Hall is to thank for this one: Sarchasm—the gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it. (May we suggest sarcastrophe, as in "The humor of this piece fell flat, which was an unfortunate sarcastrophe"?)

Writers worldwide should be quite happy with this treasure trove of new material. No longer will we have to rack our brains for just the right phrase to describe two people wrestling for the same armrest at the movie theater (elbonics), or that smudgy, slimy nose print dogs leave on the windows (pupkus). Thank you, Rich Hall. Thank you for enriching our vocabulary and expanding our repertoire of yet more words to learn how to spell.

REMEMBER TO CHECK OUT OUR LIST OF WRITING CONTESTS and ANTHOLOGIES! You won’t find a better list anywhere (AND IT’S FREE!) of upcoming anthologies, special-themed journals, and contests. Find it by visiting:
http://www.writersreliefblog.com/post/Anthologies-Contests.aspx