I must admit; I feel like I've just made it to Hollywood on American Idol for writers. I've been successful with some entries in this course, but the criticism makes me think twice about how much more wonderfully I could write. It's a shame we can't write poems, because I have this neverending rhythm in my head. Iambic pantameter, kill me now please.
Not too much description, definitely no rhyming, don't alienate the reader, and don't be too direct. I think that's it for now. What's really difficult is not being able to describe every nook and cranny, because I figure the reading should get a genuine feel to every situation.
Anyways, I must be leaving shortly or I'll never build up enough courage to make the hour ride home to Hancock. It's best to leave before the sun really starts making its appearance; that way, its more unlikely to be noticed.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
No no, you can alienate the reader--sometimes you pull the reader in by pushing them away. That piece I commented on did just that and very well too. We get to that in a while, promise.
But, yeah, indirect and oblique and ironic is the angle that works for modern literary stuff.
Post a Comment