Posted on 12/23/2024 8:51:04 AM PST by Lazamataz
Merry Christmas, all!
I'm finding that the act of writing a novel is very hard work. My writing style tends to be very concise. I can pack a lot of thoughts and ideas into a small number of sentences.
This does not work well with my current project. Various sources tell me that 90,000 to 100,000 words is the typical count for a given novel. I'm only at 15,900 words. I have quite a few chapters to go, but it's a struggle to flesh out this work to the right size.
I have a first draft manuscript, and if anyone wants to request a copy of that, I can provide it by email. Perhaps one or more of you have ideas on how I can improve this work.
See? Ya just needed a push! Srsly, though, I have the opposite issue (sometimes too flowery). And as I recall, Heinlein’s “Starship Trooper” (which I give to every young person headed into military service) was only a couple hundred pages.
jagusafr
My word - that’s dizzying! I don’t think I’d read any more after that.
Ping
“Like this?
He gingerly settled into the immaculate, cobalt-hued RAV4, its resplendent, almost mirror-like finish gleaming proudly in the bright, unrelenting midday sun. The plush driver’s seat, clad in impeccably stitched upholstery, offered a welcoming cushion that practically enveloped him in its soft, luxurious embrace. As he glanced outside, the left rear tire, sporting a subtly sagging sidewall, presented a faintly pathetic droop, hinting it might benefit from a much-needed dose of pressurized air. Its alloy rim, however, maintained a dazzling shine, a testament to his painstaking regular maintenance.
With a tinge of resigned annoyance, his gaze drifted across the sleek hood, where an ostentatious splotch of stark, white bird droppings boldly disrupted the otherwise pristine surface. The shimmering rays of sunshine, angled so precisely as to maximize brilliance, seemed to conspire against him, highlighting the unsightly blotch in a glaring, theatrical spotlight. For a moment, he fought the urge to mutter a string of exasperated curses at the inconsiderate avian that had chosen his elegant vehicle as a target. Instead, he let out a long, weary sigh, acknowledging the inevitable trip to the nearest car wash that awaited him. The RAV4’s chrome accents and expertly contoured lines deserved to be restored to their unblemished glory, untainted by an ill-timed, airborne assault.”
What???
We were talking about this a couple months ago. May as well be speaking a different language to these last two generations. They might not even be able to decipher those two paragraphs with two semesters of college dedicated to just those paragraphs. It is a real problem for those who like to write with elegance and intelligence.
He gingerly slid into the extravagantly polished, sapphire-hued RAV4, its breathtakingly radiant exterior practically shimmering beneath the glaring, unrelenting midday sun. Every inch of the lustrous paint job sparkled as though meticulously buffed by a dedicated artisan, while the meticulously maintained chrome accents glinted with a brazen, mirror-like gleam. The interior, swathed in supremely soft, opulently cushioned seating, beckoned him into a cocoon of decadent comfort, the meticulously stitched upholstery exuding a refined aura of understated luxury.
Beyond the driver’s door, the left rear tire revealed a slightly drooping, forlorn appearance, its deflated sidewall offering the barest hint of impending inconvenience. Although the polished alloy wheel, boasting an almost supernatural luster, flaunted his unwavering commitment to maintenance, the tire’s waning air pressure betrayed a quiet plea for a judicious refill.
As he turned his weary eyes to the smoothly contoured hood—sculpted with an almost architectural precision—his mood promptly soured. There, an audacious splotch of glaring white bird droppings clung obstinately to the gleaming surface, a jarring eyesore that undermined the RAV4’s immaculate elegance. The sun’s piercing rays, angled with uncanny exactitude, homed in on the offending blemish, creating a glaring spectacle that demanded his reluctant and slightly exasperated attention. It was as though the heavens themselves conspired to highlight this very moment of grime, magnifying his frustration and conjuring a silent vow for a thorough, restorative car-wash expedition.
I refuse to cheat.
Are you sure your word count goal should be what is typical? Some of us don’t even think about word count. Got a story to tell, tell it, and when it’s told, you stop.
You’re activating my Proust virus!
I’ve heard two people so far (on this thread), chime in that maybe word count is not important.
LOL!
Just finished my 3rd novel and starting my 4th. Writing is easy. It’s the editing, agent/publisher search, marketing & distribution that the hard part.... 🤣
You could also comment about the color of cobalt, related to the child labor need in Africa to mine cobalt and why that mineral was chosen to represent that color. How toxic the mineral is, yet needed for the greenies to feel good and woke.
That alone could add one to two pages.
Wow!
Write it as fast as possible. Then rewrite it and rewrite the rewrite. The magic happens during the editing....
Third person pronoun simple past tense verb indefinite article antonym of bright conjunction very windy, wet weather better stated in a single word when it is not somewhere around noontime.
Assuming you have a strong vision of the story arc, and also assuming you do not have a problem fleshing out your characters, then I would suggest dividing up the progression of your story arc into smaller concise groups, then go through each one and how you can make each of those stories of their own merit. Sub-plots with arcs of their own.
By doing that, you wont be diluting your content with verbosity or artificially florid words-smithing.
Yes. Sounds like our protagonist is down on his luck. This way, it’s not about the car really, it’s about its driver.
Yes, this is a problem. Of conscience. For some people! Others don't write for these past two generations or for two-semester folk. If you want to write with elegance and intelligence, never mind the village idiots now in the majority.
A writing coach I otherwise respect, advises to use only straightforward, simple English. Might as well speak in grunts, clicks and whistles, and write nothing.
My readership probably went extinct in the 1920's, I can't help that. Sum ergo scribo!
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