Will someone please explain to me why it takes me an hour to delete 100 words and two minutes to add 50? What is this strange phenomena of wordiness?
My goal one night was to delete 500 words. Hour by hour, I trimmed an adjective here, an adverb there. I even cut 7 words at once by eliminating an unnecessary metaphor. Then I realized I needed to add a quick (ha!) explanation of why angels and djinn can perceive souls but my repentant demons can’t. And 60 words later… Argh!
It’s like freakin’ fat cells on your thighs. I’ve heard fat cells never go away; they only deflate. You can run and lift weights and deny yourself bucket o’ cookie dough. Little by little, the bulk goes out of the fat cell. But the minute you lose focus… Bam, your word count is up by 200 words.
Jessa’s word for the day… No, make that her word for life: Logorrhea. From the Greek for “word-flux.” The excessive flow of words, especially superfluous or unnecessarily elaborate words.
Need to add more words to your work? Check out the International House of Logorrhea. Among other rare and wonderful word gems that will probably work their way into tonight’s edits, they offer:
- Jugulate: To cut the throat of.
- Decarnate: To deprive of physical form.
- Metempsychosis: The passing of a soul after death into another body.
- Topaesthesia: Determining place by sense of touch.
See? It’s not my fault. There are too many good words out there and they all want to be in my story.