Recently an editor actually edited a romance story of mine (Woman’s World, July 3rd issue). I hate when that happens. She took out what I thought was a great phase, “male communication,” and added a “knowing smile.” That sent me down the rabbit hole as I looked into types of smiles.
Dentists say there are three types of smiles, but that’s all clinical stuff using specific muscles and forming shapes with the lips. I’m interested in smiles that communicate.
I ran across a YouTube test about fake smiles. I know that stuff and scored 100%. If the eyes don’t crinkle with crow’s feet, then the smile isn’t genuine. Romance writers have been using “a smile that didn’t reach his eyes” for decades to show insincerity.
The pinnacle of smiles is called the Duchenne smile, named for a French anatomist who stimulated facial muscles with electric currents to see which smile muscles were involved that reached the eyes. I could have told him it’s true enjoyment that triggers a genuine smile.
Of course, you’ve got your “thousand-watt smile.” That’s what a heroine bestows on the hero to win his heart. She lights up a room with her smile. It’s some pretty powerful wattage, so it’s got to be a Duchenne smile. Rarely does a hero possess that kind of electricity. He grins. Grins are always good, and cowboys, firemen, and former Marines are good at those. Isn’t there a sexy secret message in a grin? Especially a lopsided grin.
I found that researchers at Carnegie Mellon University decided those smiling eyes were a matter of intensity instead of necessarily enjoyment. And another research outfit said an exaggerated Duchenne smile is used by accomplished liars.
Not only that, The British Broadcasting Corporation’s Future magazine says there are 19 types of smiles, and only six of them are happy ones. The article got too detailed, so I didn’t finish it.
I know there are smirks, sneers, contemptuous smiles, cat-who-ate-the-canary smiles, enigmatic smiles (think Mona Liza), flirtatious smiles, shy smiles. Actually, you can pop any adjective in front of smile and create a certain smile: smug, timid, carefree, arrogant, lewd, cheerful, sad, weary, and the list goes on and on.
I always thought a smile was a universal language. Turns out it’s not. For instance, in Russia, if you smile for no reason when saying hello, it’s considered a sign of stupidity. Friends of mine have traveled to Russia and commented on how unhappy the citizens seem because they don’t smile. Perhaps the Russians thought American tourists were imbeciles.
At any rate, a “knowing smile” is one where someone knows what another is thinking without the other one telling him. It’s possible that I violated the writers’ show-don’t-tell rule and told the reader about male communication instead of showing it with a knowing smile.
Okay, maybe the editor knew what she was doing, and I was wrong.
“I hate when that happens,” I say with a begrudging smile.
