I was falling asleep at my desk a moment ago, thinking about how stressful these next couple weeks will be as I approach the release of my book. I’m exhausted. Late nights of edits, feeling like nothing is perfect enough. Nothing is ever going to be perfect enough, though. I’m coming to realize that at some point, we authors have to look at our work and accept that it’s our very best.
Anyway, I’ve known I needed to blog as I’ve been pretty lazy with it lately. Time is my enemy it seems, and even when I have time, I’m too burnt out to think of a good topic. As I was pondering that this morning, I was having a conversation with my beautiful friend and fellow author, Kharis Courtney. See her blog here.
We were discussing word count. She’s whittling down the extra fluff in her book, which I find commendable.
I’ll admit – I love descriptive fluff. I love reading it and I love writing it. Is it always necessary? No. Does everyone care about it? No.
But I do. It’s fun. I don’t think I overuse it, but you can be the judge of that in two weeks. I like to think that any fluff I use has a point. But Kharis also has a point:
In a real life conversation, you don’t describe things the way it is tempting to in a book. And there’s really no other way to do this conversation justice without quoting it. So here you have it, ladies and gentleman. Maybe you’ll learn a lesson from it for your own work:
I’m not like “I went to the market. Then I touched this beautiful red apple. It had a bruise so I lifted my hand and moved on to the next apple. Then I fingered the stem of a wayward green apple. In the end they were all no good so I took my hands off of them and wiped my fingers on my pants.”
No. I went to the store to get apples, but they were all bad.
My readers are just going to have to enjoy fluff. Haha.
Lol. I will enjoy all your fluff. Thoroughly. While I tough the page, lift my hand, and then touch it again.
I need to write a blog, but I have no clue about what. My brain is fried.
LOL! I’m crying tears of laughter!
Lol. Please tell me how many tears.
There’s at least three. They blur my vision, and then tumble down my cheeks like tiny rivers of joy.
At which point you wipe them with the very tip of your left pinkie finger.
And then chortle again to release another tear that forms a new path. It falls to my green dress – not emerald green, but more of a hunter/soft green – where it makes a tiny little dot.
Yet another tear finds its way to your mouth where you taste its salty flavor– not with the back of your tongue, but with the tip. Because the tip is where you taste salty things with your super-salt-detecting tastebuds.
Of which you have 543.
I have a charley horse in my stomach. In my left abdominal wall, 2nd ab down.
At this point, we decided to blog about this. I hope our examples teach you to examine how much extra fluff is really necessary in your book.
Now I shall sit back down at my work desk, where my chair is too stiff for comfort. I’ll rub my arms briskly because it’s cold in the office – 68 degrees, to be exact. Then I’ll wiggle my mouse, straighten my keyboard, and scan my emails with eyes that are simply too tired to focus adequately.