Like other construction worker, we creators of word worlds own toolboxes filled with necessary implements. We have hooks to hook the reader, glue to glue their attention, a feather or two to tickle their funny bones.
We find nails to nail our points and hammers to hammer them home. We find nuts and bolts to connect our story elements and trowels with which to lay a concrete foundation. And we find pliers for getting the attention of agents and editors, because we all know that task is as difficult and painful as pulling out our own teeth. (Word of caution: Do not use pliers on said agents/editors. They might take offense and refuse to look at your work.)
We need awls and augers (maybe even augurs) to poke holes in our inflated prose, and we need saws to cut away the deadwood. And we definitely need screwdrivers to screw up our courage and we need screwdrivers to drown our sorrows when agents/editors/critics shoot us down again. (A bulletproof vest would also come in handy, but they are too bulky to fit in the box, and besides, they make our clothes fit funny.)
But the most important and versatile tool of all is the chisel. We can use it to knock the chip off our shoulders. Perhaps you're right and agents/editors are idiots who can't recognize good prose. But perhaps they are idiots who can recognize good prose, and you're not writing it yet. (Notice I say you? I, of course, write excellent prose. Agents/editors just don't recognize my good prose when they see it.)
Chisels will help keep criticism and compliments at more than arm's length. Too much criticism can kill creativity; too many compliments may keep us from improving. And we can all improve.
A chisel will help pare away verbiage, those superfluous words and elements that blunt the clear lines of our prose. For example, I chiseled away excess from the phrase excess verbiage, since it's redundant. Verbiage by definition is excess.
And a chisel will help us shape our story into a world so vital and inviting readers won't be able to tear themselves away.
So, let's open our toolboxes and get to work
You first.
Thank you to the participants of No Whine, Just Champagne's live chat last Thursday for giving me the idea for this article post.


Comments: 49
How's that chisel feel on your shin my dear? He, he!..
Nice article, by the Pat.
That chisel is part of Tracy and I's inside joke. So, I couldn't stop laughing when I read your post. I hope that's okay.
Oh, no, put that down Tray!... Tray..
Have a nice day!
Um... It's not dangerous, is it? I mean, I could glue everything back together if I mess up, right?
This article has been featured on Gather Essentials: Writing for Humor Monday.
Let’s have a little contest: who will be the first to identify the book and author of this lofty prose? The prize? A Writin’ Wombat t-shirt. Hoowah!
Godlett said at this point he began to fade away, and the communicator grabbed him by the shoulders, saying, “Oh, don’t go! Stay! We want to talk to you.” A being about two feet high, covered with what seemed to be orange fur, ran over and grabbed his legs tightly, pleading, “Oh, don’t go, don’t go, don’t go.” And although he felt himself making a real effort to remain, his own body dissolved and he awakened from the experience. Then he immediately wrote down all of his recollections, and painted pictures of the various beings he had seen. He feels that an assemblage of interplanetary beings was in progress, and that they were exceptionally pleased to have a representative from planet earth. He keeps hoping to attend another one, and next time to hear the discussions.
I enjoyed it and agree.
Thanks for the friend invite~