Not overcooked. Not undercooked. Just all half-baked goodness in every write.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Passage from a non-existent short story
"The words on the page threatened him like a gang of nouns wielding verbs with reckless abandon. Adverbs grinned menacingly, their cadence brutal and merciless. Oh, he sighed, if only there were a period that could end the barrage. But the commas kept coming, their sickles digging deep into the paragraph and pausing only for the occassional semicolon."