Thursday, February 25, 2010


I'm currently reading a thriller by Stuart Woods. The gentleman has twice the published novels than I have toes and fingers. Yet if I were to critique him, I would complain bitterly about the monotony of his cadence. Ta Da – Ta Da – Ta Da

He's a successful author, and I'm still sending query letters--for my fourteenth completed manuscript. An agent at some point recognized Mr. Woods' work as publishable. It was the man's imagination and humor, his ability to make coincidences seem completely plausible, the development of concrete characters you can love and hate.

But his sentences irk me to no end. Ta Da – Ta Da – Ta Da

I pray my stories have half the interest his do. But if they don't, I'll continue to concentrate on retaining a tad of music in my prose--an occasional Ta, between a Da Da Da Ta Da and a Ta Da

Write Every Day!


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