This isn't my usual kind of post but...
Who are the lucky people, I want to know, who get to impose their words and grammar rules on the rest of us who speak English?
Why do we have so many words in our language...
yet so few good, efficient descriptive verbs?
The ancient Greeks had at least three words for love: agape, phileo, eros.
But we only have the word "love."
How about the word "smile?"
We have grin, smirk, and simper.
But that's about it.
You have to add all sorts of modifying words to get your point across to the reader.
But with a few combined words, the whole matter is solved. Editors would love it. They're always clamoring for tight, concise, passages.
There are so many different ways to laugh, but not too many good words that describe laughter. I think it be great if the poor writer could avoid adding those nasty descriptive adverbs that clarify how a character laughed?
So why can't I simply invent my own words?
I'd call it "abrevo-speech."
If one of my characters laughed derisively,
instead of," He laughed derisively."
I could write, "He deridulaughed.
What if I frowned irritably, with mouth screwed up, eyes narrowed, and eyebrows drawn down? So many words.
This is better:
I irritafrowned.
What if someone looked at you with a question in their eyes, a tilt to his head and his eyebrows raised?
This is more concise:
He interrogazed me.
And if a teenager sighed, rolled her eyes, and slumped her shoulders, she might be:
rebelliousizing.
Just think how many words you could cut from your work in progress!
If you wrote a 90,000 word manuscript, you could possibly boil it down to 50,000 words. A one-night's read.
Suppose one evening you settle down with a book about a little girl whose mischievous ways get her into trouble with her parents:
April pushed a chair up to cupboard above the microwave. Quietly, and with great stealth, she opened the cupboard and reached her little fingers into the plastic wrapper which contained the remaining ten Oreo cookies. But the stomp of adult feet on the linoleum floor made her mouth gape and her eyes jerk wide with fear.
"Just what do you think you're doing, Young Lady?" Her mother stood with arms folded across her chest, with the look of all parents considering swift discipline.
April jumped off the chair and looked up at her mother guiltily. "I, I was trying to make dessert for you, Mommy." Boy, she'd have to think and speak fast to avoid punishment. "These cookies weren't for me. I knew you were tired after a long day, and I wanted to help you feel better." (Word-count: 140)
Now, let's tell the same scenario with my abrevo-speech:
April pushed the chair up to the cupboard above the microwave. Carefomoving, she opened the cupboard and reached her little fingers into the plastic wrapper which contained the remaining ten Oreo Cookies. But the stomp of adult feet on the linoleum floors made her scaretwitch.
"What do you think you're doing, Young Lady?" Her mother interrogazed.
April jumped off the chair and guiltigazed. "I was trying to make dessert for you, Mommy," she hastidicted. (word-count: 75)
I'd love to add hastidicted to the dictionary. How many of us have hastily spoken too many words when caught in a gaffe or an indiscretion?
This is also tongue-in-cheek, but considering how many prayers the Lord listens to each day, He might appreciate my abbreviated speech, too!
"A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver."(Proverbs 25: 11)
Who are the lucky people, I want to know, who get to impose their words and grammar rules on the rest of us who speak English?
Why do we have so many words in our language...
yet so few good, efficient descriptive verbs?
The ancient Greeks had at least three words for love: agape, phileo, eros.
But we only have the word "love."
How about the word "smile?"
We have grin, smirk, and simper.
But that's about it.
You have to add all sorts of modifying words to get your point across to the reader.
But with a few combined words, the whole matter is solved. Editors would love it. They're always clamoring for tight, concise, passages.
There are so many different ways to laugh, but not too many good words that describe laughter. I think it be great if the poor writer could avoid adding those nasty descriptive adverbs that clarify how a character laughed?
So why can't I simply invent my own words?
I'd call it "abrevo-speech."
If one of my characters laughed derisively,
instead of," He laughed derisively."
I could write, "He deridulaughed.
What if I frowned irritably, with mouth screwed up, eyes narrowed, and eyebrows drawn down? So many words.
This is better:
I irritafrowned.
What if someone looked at you with a question in their eyes, a tilt to his head and his eyebrows raised?
This is more concise:
He interrogazed me.
And if a teenager sighed, rolled her eyes, and slumped her shoulders, she might be:
rebelliousizing.
Just think how many words you could cut from your work in progress!
If you wrote a 90,000 word manuscript, you could possibly boil it down to 50,000 words. A one-night's read.
Suppose one evening you settle down with a book about a little girl whose mischievous ways get her into trouble with her parents:
April pushed a chair up to cupboard above the microwave. Quietly, and with great stealth, she opened the cupboard and reached her little fingers into the plastic wrapper which contained the remaining ten Oreo cookies. But the stomp of adult feet on the linoleum floor made her mouth gape and her eyes jerk wide with fear.
"Just what do you think you're doing, Young Lady?" Her mother stood with arms folded across her chest, with the look of all parents considering swift discipline.
April jumped off the chair and looked up at her mother guiltily. "I, I was trying to make dessert for you, Mommy." Boy, she'd have to think and speak fast to avoid punishment. "These cookies weren't for me. I knew you were tired after a long day, and I wanted to help you feel better." (Word-count: 140)
Now, let's tell the same scenario with my abrevo-speech:
April pushed the chair up to the cupboard above the microwave. Carefomoving, she opened the cupboard and reached her little fingers into the plastic wrapper which contained the remaining ten Oreo Cookies. But the stomp of adult feet on the linoleum floors made her scaretwitch.
"What do you think you're doing, Young Lady?" Her mother interrogazed.
April jumped off the chair and guiltigazed. "I was trying to make dessert for you, Mommy," she hastidicted. (word-count: 75)
I'd love to add hastidicted to the dictionary. How many of us have hastily spoken too many words when caught in a gaffe or an indiscretion?
This is also tongue-in-cheek, but considering how many prayers the Lord listens to each day, He might appreciate my abbreviated speech, too!
"A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver."(Proverbs 25: 11)
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