The imperial nudibranch is worth sitting on my knees deep in the sand against a lava ledge serenaded only by irregular bubble bursts out my regulator. Even without a camera I can watch them for hours creep along the ocean floor. The other divers are madly flapping around looking for sharks and other charismatic megalofauna...but not I.
I am fascinated with the tiny. The small. The little.
Isn't that just like a writer?
To avoid the obvious and focus on infinitesimal detail that brings a story to life.
6 am and 75 degrees.
My father called and told me it was snowing in Seattle the other day.
Kimber an talked about sub zero weather in Alaska.
I feel your pain...as I sit here with fans blowing, basking in tropical warmth.
The topic today is truth.
I think it is important to tell the truth.
I disagreed with Miss Snark today.
Now those of you may remember that I said as a writer I am a great liar.
This is different.
The post talked about readability (Flesch-Kincaid grade levels) and was equating the higher score with (I guess) a better book?
I don't buy it.
It is seductive to take everything on Miss Snark's blog as manna from Heaven.
Don't get me wrong. She has much to offer new writers - but like in academia - read everything with a discerning eye.
As far as readability?
Short sentences and one syllable words worked just fine for Papa.
Simenon did pretty well too.
There are others.
Dr. S. - Who can decry the philosophical ramifications of Green Eggs and Ham?
When I have to wade through a literary opus with a dictionary at my side because I can't define a word in context.
I get a little irked.
So don't be a lemming as they call all us snarklings on AW.
Think for yourself.
And enjoy her blog.
Then come over and read mine.
And that's the truth.