10/14/20
I've been hanging out at Hope* Writers for about a month now. I like what Kimberly Coyle said yesterday during the Tuesday Teaching hour:
Learn to play with language.
“Learn to play with language.” What a cool concept. Don't be afraid to be unique. Don't be afraid of metaphors and similies. Use your senses. Express yourself using strong verbs and nouns. Taking some of her advice, I decided to have a playdate with language.
Me: Language, will you come out and play with me?
Language: Sure, but why?
Me: Oh, I don’t know. My writing is boring and it puts people to sleep.
Language: Okay. I'll play with you. Rewrite the last sentence using your senses, metaphors, similes. It doesn’t matter. Turn the sentence into an original, creative one.
Me: My writing is so boring even boring people are bored.
Language: You’re playing it safe. Give it another shot.
Me: My writing is so boring that it’s listed on medical sites as a way to help cure insomnia. Insomniacs, world-wide, give testimony to its effectiveness. David Slumberjack, an incurable insomniac, was cured ten words into reading my book.
Language: You’re getting the hang of it. Throw in a metaphor or simile.
Me: My writing is like my husband when he had COVID-19. Right in the middle of a sentence, he’d fall asleep.
My writing is as boring as a medical journal on the detailed intricacies of nose hair.
It’s so boring that it’s listed on medical sites as a way to help cure insomnia. Insomniacs, world-wide, give testimony to its effectiveness. David Slumberjack, a incurable insomniac, was cured ten words into reading my book.
Language: Keep going. Now show some type of action. Show how your husband fell asleep. How about David Slumberjack?
Me: My writing effects people like COVID did with my husband. He slept eighteen hours most days. He fought hard to stay awake but right in the middle of a sentence, his head would flop over against his recliner and drool would form in the corner of his mouth.
My writing is as boring as a medical journal on the detailed intricacies of nose hair.
It’s so boring that it’s listed on medical sites as a way to help cure insomnia. Insomniacs, world-wide, give testimony to its effectiveness. David Slumberjack, a professed life-long insomniac, was cured when, after reading ten words of my book at the kitchen table, his body went rigid and he tumbled to the floor. His family thought he had suffered a stroke. It took two hours to pry the book from his stiffened hands.
Language: You’re getting there. Now, let’s work on using a more active voice.
Me: Uh, say what?
I have to admit it was fun playing with language. Hopefully, it will want to play with me again tomorrow.