“Said.”
It’s a vile, little word. Staid and unmoving, its utter complacency is
an ill-timed burp to my writer’s constitution. I’ve spent most of the last five
years of my professional novel-spinning life avoiding the four letter
abomination like some leperous plague.
It disgusts my creative sensibilities.
It’s simply rather gauche.
…
That said, I’m here to
apologize to the tiny word.
While its use in dialogue setting I still find to be trollsome, I have
come to realize its utility. Sometimes a character truly does nothing more than
“say” something. He doesn’t whisper it, or huff it out, or scream, or beg, or
even inquire or demand. Sometimes things are just said.
Simple, short, concise.
Expediency in language is often overlooked in historical romances… and,
um, writers’ blogs. And while I’m reluctantly learning to accept that simpler-is-better
theory in the former, I refuse to even consider such crap in the latter. Yeah,
so sorry.
Bottom line: Even old dogs can learn new tricks, but they’ll only do
them when they darn-well feel like it.
Enough said.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe
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