I am in love with prepositions. I must be. I can’t seem to let a sentence go by without including an “in there,” “over here,” “beside him,” or “for me,” or the equivalent. For example, just picking up the draft of the contemporary I’m working on, I find: “He didn’t know how else to describe the incredible joy her smile aroused in him.”
All right, answer me this—where in heck else would joy be aroused if not in him? He was watching a tree bounce with joy maybe?
Perhaps this isn’t the best example since I’m learning (after how many years? Twenty?) to cut these excesses while I’m writing instead of waiting for the editing process, but they still creep in. How many times have I written the equivalent of “He sat over there on the chair and sipped his beer” ? I know that’s how I talk. I like words, and the more, the merrier. But when writing, I’m limited to 100,000 words, and any extras just cause the eyes to glaze over.
And if you think I’m being hard on myself, note that the above example from my manuscript was immediately followed by this sentence: “He would have stood on his head and sung the La Marseillaise if she’d asked it of him.”
Sings so nicely, doesn’t it? Arggghhhhh!
Did someone say writing is easy? Slap them for me if they did.
Eye Yi Yi!
4 hours ago