Sigh. I completely forgot to post this after writing it yesterday afternoon. Like I mentioned before, my brain is a cruel entity.

This blog is going to be about description. After participating in two peer review sessions and getting to read a number of different stories, I have concluded that we are all too in love with words. They really aren’t that great. Description is the gateway to morbidly obese stories, too fat with drippy, thick adjectives and adverbs to move about on their own two (how many legs does a story have?) legs. Now, I am not saying I am against description or the use of adverbs or adjective. I am pro adjectives. Really, I am just struck by my own inability to let the silence in a story speak for me. Most of my stories are the chunky bastardizations of whatever trashy ideas pop in and out of my head during my rarer moments of lucidity. Real stories, the compelling stuff, and not the dribble I have produced in my long journey to average writing competence, are living, breathing entities. They present themselves with dignity and poise, not an overabundance of tacky light and dark metaphors. I really want to break some rules. Writing with heavy description is like trying to fly a plane with a whole mess of cows strapped to the wings. You don’t get very far and your whole effort smells like manure. Just terrible.