I have a particularly peculiar penchant for long lines and lists of words that weave and worm their way across the page, all of them with the same stupid sound at the start of their stem.
Have you never noticed this horribly has-been habit I have?
It’s uninteresting, uninspired, and utterly uncontrollable.
I swear on my sweet sister’s socks that I definitely don’t do it deliberately. I truly try to twist and turn my texts in a more moving and mature manner without these weedy wonky word-streams.
But I just can’t consciously control the flow of these fast and furious phrases (yep, that counts). They fall from my fingertips uninvited and unwanted. They sneak in and slip into a story, slyly, surreptitiously, seeming to blandly yet beautifully blend in, but actually aggravating the author and all of her avid admirers (yeah, yeah, yawn).
So from this fine day forward I will endeavour to eradicate their existence from everything I ever write. I will find fresher fancier words to replace these rocky repetitive relics.
I will look and learn from others’ literature. I will relentlessly read writers who refuse to repeat the same silly sounds. I will chop and change my choices and throw out these thin threads that threaten to throttle my sassy seamless style.
Jesus, Joseph and Gemima Jones…
What a load of lacklustre lies! I love alliteration! Long live alliteration!
There’s nothing quite like it.
(Not a single sign of a similar-sounding syllable in that last sentence. See!)