The VERB - December '07

CLEANING UP PROSE

I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!

Unless you're making a rhyme, or a point, avoid repetition. The effect is similar to an out-of-tune musical instrument. Each time the bad notes blare, the ear winces.

Read your words out loud, and you're almost guaranteed to catch these little ne're-do-wells before they reach the stage.

And a one and a two . . .

EXAMPLE:
I tucked Momma in her bed, put a bowl on the stand beside her bed for her to vomit in, then went to bed.

CLEANED UP:
I tucked Momma in, put a vomit bowl on the nightstand, then went to bed.

EXAMPLE:
Become involved in your school and contribute to make your school a better school by the time you graduate.

CLEANED UP:
Become involved and contribute to make your school better by the time you graduate.

EXAMPLE:
Sirens blared in the distance. Like all sirens, they had that strange persistent shrill that briefly froze the heart.

"Hear the sirens?" said Uncle Red.

CLEANED UP:
Sirens blared in the distance. Like all alarms, they had that strange persistent shrill that briefly froze the heart.

"Hear that?" said Uncle Red.

EXAMPLE:
Yes, it was a bit tricky, but nobody could tell how tricky, not the way we'd done it. Now the tricky parts were over, and here I was coming up to look at the ruins of the old house.

CLEANED UP:
Yes, it was a bit tricky, but nobody could tell, not the way we'd done it. Now the risks were over, and here I was coming up to look at the ruins of the old house.

OUR CURRENT CONTEST

The first chapter is the beginning of the story, but it doesn't necessarily have to begin at the beginning. Its purpose is to grab the attention of the readers. By the time they reach the end of it, they should be tripping over their fingers to get to the second one. Have you begun in the right place?

All entries receive three Opinions!
Complete details.

SAMPLE OF EXCELLENCE

Late that afternoon, George asked Margaret to go with him to the cemetery, so she borrowed Randy’s car and drove him out. On the way, they stopped at a florist and bought some chrysanthemums, which George placed on Aunt Maw’s grave. There had been a heavy rain during the week and the new-made mound had sunk an inch or two, leaving a jagged crack around its edges.

As he laid the flowers on the damp raw earth, suddenly it struck him as strange that he should be doing it. He was not a sentimental person, and for a moment it puzzled him that he should be making this gesture. . . .

Then he realized why he had done it—and why he had wanted to come back to the cemetery at all. This visit to Libya Hill, which he had dreamed about so many times as his homecoming, and which had not turned out in any way as he had thought it would be, was really his leave-taking, his farewell. The last tie that had bound him to his native earth was severed, and he was going out from here to make a life for himself as each man must—alone.

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