Digressions & excursions
When reading this chapter I remember how Harold is prone to the same digressions as I am. I’m sure they will start showing up more in this story. When I digress in writing, I call it “excursions.” Excursions. This, I feel, has a positive ring, and since a reader is always in control of the journey’s speed I don’t feel so bad.
When I digress in oral stories, I usually just have to apologize and shrug.
A growth paradox
I read somewhere on Twitter (sorry, forgotten author of interesting tweet) about a strange potential risk that comes with writing experience. As you better your craft (said the forgotten author), the risk of feeling horrified by your earlier work rises parallel to any extra satisfaction you may receive from improving your craft. Or something like that.
Congratulations! You’ve eliminated twenty-seven of the stock phrases you used to prop yourself up with, but look at this early stuff!
How awkward. And while I’m a little bit fascinated by this idea—frankly, it’s not for me. Why harbour regrets over the impossible? The glass is half full.
That said, before I can call this project complete I believe I’ll need to firm up more than a few sentences. The past me loves repetition and wordiness more than the present me. That’s the main to do item:
To do list
- Eliminate wordiness, verbosity, pleonastic writing…you get the idea.