Copy-edit

Copy-edit: (v) to edit for publication

Although classically it is portrayed that writers suffer “blockage” and are unable to come up with ideas—or even the next line—the truth is,  when a writer is inspired with a good story, the characters often become so verbose, and dare I say overbearing, that the end result is an overabundance of syllables, paragraphs and even chapters.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

There is actually only one rule in writing, and since there’s only one, we shall not call it a rule, but rather, refer to it as a smiling opportunity.

That would be: “Don’t do anything to interrupt or impede your own story.”

This is why it’s important to copy-edit a book, a story or even an article (such as the one I’m writing to you).

It is not fair to the reader, to get him or her all tied up in useless information about the entwined colors in a particularly plush davenport—when what is happening on the couch is the real gig.

Some writers become fussy and sentimental about one particular thought or character’s involvement. But as you age and mature, you realize that the reader is what you’re writing for—not the approval of other writers or publishers who would jump up and down in great glee if they got the chance to reject a submission from Ernest Hemingway.


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Commentary

Commentary: (n) an expression of opinions about an event or situation

I will now offer my commentary:

I have a small penis.

I bring this up to you without apology, biological explanation or some silly sidebar like, “Had no complaints…”

What is interesting about my statement, and makes this commentary worthy of publication, is that the little fella has done some amazing things.

He ended up fathering four children, and from them–not many complaints.

He has survived being in a bedroom with a woman without ridicule.

He has also seen that particular human female leave with a pleasured smile. (Basically, it had little to do with him, and was courtesy of other digits and doo-dads, but he will still take the credit.)

I suppose at one time in my life I would have been embarrassed by the size of my “unit” (that’s what people who feel they are well-endowed call it).

Or should I refer to it as my “package?” But if it is a package, I could send mine first-class reasonably. But call me crazy, I am too overjoyed with my life to complain about my wiener.

I would not want to be around people from the “pecker patrol,” who would stare at my small friend and find him to be disgracefully inadequate.

He has been dutiful. Every time my kidneys want to urinate, he shows up–often bright and early.

He has the good sense to stay out of neighborhoods where he does not belong.

And he’s remained clean and free of disease.

He’s a rather admirable chap.

And even though some of my family would be embarrassed at me talking about him in such a fashion, I think it’s time for us to get over the idea that men and women are going to hump their way to satisfaction because of the enormous size of the male dangling participle.

Making love is like everything else in life. It demands much more conversation than it does struggle.

Thus ends my commentary.

 

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