How to Avoid Being too Wordy in Your Writing: Clause and Effect

A Writer's Path

by Richard Risemberg

Do you love subordinate clauses? I know I do. And how about assonance and alliteration, rhythm and rhyme? Let’s face it: they can be as tasty as chocolate.

But would you make an entire meal of just…chocolate? (Okay, whoever said “yes” please leave the room now!)

Consider this a meeting of Overwriters Anonymous. My name is Rick, and I used to write overelaborate sentences. Clever and musical they were; there was just too much of them. Frankly, my dependence on brilliant phrasing destroyed my relationship with my early novels, and we haven’t seen each other in decades. The words just got in the way of the meaning after a while, exhilarating though they could be.

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Keep Track of Your Conversations in One Place

New, useful changes from WordPress! 😉

WordPress.com News

Today, we’re introducing Conversations: a tool in the Reader that makes it easier for you to monitor and participate in the discussions you care about the most.

Let’s face it: it can be hard to keep track of all the conversations you take part in online. When your favorite posts generate an active discussion, you might miss out on some meaningful exchanges. To find out if a post has new comments, you would have to manually search for it in your stream, or enable comment emails, which would then fill your inbox with every single comment coming from that post.

With the new Conversations page, new comments on your followed posts on any WordPress.com or Jetpack-connected sites will all appear in a single stream, including for sites you don’t follow. You’ll now be able to read and add your replies without having to leave the Reader!

wordpress-conversations-tool

You can also…

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Call for Submissions: Telling Our Stories About Invisible Illness Creatively Deadline February 9, 2018

Great opportunity to share your invisible illness journey! 😉

Brave & Reckless

I am one of the millions of people living with invisible illness.  I may look “normal” but my life is anything but normal as I struggle to live with depression and fibromyalgia on a daily basis.

Brave and Reckless is currently accepting submissions of photos, artwork, poetry, prose, short fiction, essay and other creative mediums that express what it is like to live with an invisible physical or mental illness.  It is an opportunity to educate, to entertain, enlighten and express ourselves creatively.  If you are living with an invisible illness or are caring for someone living with an invisible illness I hope you will consider participating in this project.

Email your submissions to christine.e.ray@gmail.com by Friday, February 9th with your name, the name you publish under, a brief biography and a link to wherever you publish your work.  A suggested image would also be appreciated.

Feel free to share…

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“Perfect Remains (A DI Callanach Thriller, Book 1)” by Helen Fields

Perfect Remains cover

 

Perfect Remains (A DI Callanach Thriller, Book 1)

By Helen Fields

Genre: Thriller & Suspense/Crime Fiction/Noir

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On a remote Highland mountain, the body of Elaine Buxton is burning. All that will be left to identify the respected lawyer are her teeth and a fragment of clothing.

In the concealed back room of a house in Edinburgh, the real Elaine Buxton screams into the darkness…

Detective Inspector Luc Callanach has barely set foot in his new office when Elaine’s missing persons case is escalated to a murder investigation. Having left behind a promising career at Interpol, he’s eager to prove himself to his new team. But Edinburgh, he discovers, is a long way from Lyon, and Elaine’s killer has covered his tracks with meticulous care.

It’s not long before another successful woman is abducted from her doorstep, and Callanach finds himself in a race against the clock. Or so he believes … The real fate of the women will prove more twisted than he could have ever imagined.

 

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#CoverReveal “The Things We Need to Say” by Rachel Burton

 

Sometimes the things we never say are the most important.

Fran loves Will with all her heart. They had a whirlwind romance, a perfect marriage and a wonderful life. Until everything changed. Now Fran needs to find her way again and teaching a yoga retreat in Spain offers her just that. Leaving behind a broken marriage she has some very important decisions to make.

Will needs his wife, he needs her to open up to him if they’re to ever return to the ways things once were. But he may have damaged any possibility he had of mending their relationship and now Fran is in Spain and Will is alone.

As both Fran and Will begin to let go of a life that could have been, fate may just find a way of bringing them back together.

Perfect for fans of Katie Marsh, Amanda Prowse and Sheila O’Flanagan

 

PreOrder 

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Publication Day – May 11, 2018

———

EXCERPT

DECEMBER 2004

It started at the party. His hands on my hips, my forehead against his shoulder. He asked me to dance but he didn’t know how. We stood together at the edge of the dance floor shaking with laughter at his two left feet. I don’t know how long we stood there. I don’t know if anybody noticed.

He’d waited for me, sitting with my friends, not sure if I’d turn up or not. I wasn’t in the habit of going to work Christmas parties; I only went in the end because he said he would be there, because he said he would wait for me. I arrived just as the main course was being served. I slipped into the seat next to him. His hand brushed against my thigh as I sat down. He held my gaze for longer than he should have done.

I fell in love with him that night as we stood on the dance floor laughing, my hands on his waist, feeling the muscles of his back, the warmth of his body, through his dress shirt, the press of him against my hip.

That was where it began. I sometimes wonder if that should have been where it ended.

But later that evening, as I got out of his car, and I said those words I should have kept to myself, we both knew there was no going back.

 

JULY 2016

Fran

She wakes up in the same position in which she fell asleep, her husband’s arms around her, their hands entwined on her stomach. Neither of them have slept that deeply for months. Fran remembers something: a hotel room on a Greek island, a feeling of hope, of new beginnings. She doesn’t allow the memory to linger. This is what they have now. They can be happy again if they allow themselves to be.

The hot, humid weather has broken in the night and she listens to the sound of summer rain on the roof. Will moves gently against her, pulling her closer. She feels his breath against her neck and the sensation of hot liquid in her stomach, a combination of desire and need. This is their second chance – she can’t let it pass her by.

‘I love you,’ Will says sleepily.

‘I love you too,’ she replies. It feels good to be saying it to each other again. She’s never stopped loving him; she just forgot how to tell him for a while.

‘Do you want me to go and make coffee?’ Will asks, nuzzling her neck.

‘Not just yet,’ she replies, turning around to look at him. His brown eyes are dark, impenetrable pools. His hair is pushed back off his face. Sometimes she forgets how much all of this has affected him too. Sometimes she forgets everything except her own pain. She feels his warmth against her, his strength. She feels as though the gulf that had been threatening to open up between them for the last year is slowly closing. She realises they have so much life ahead of them. So much time to learn to be happy again.

‘I thought I’d lost you,’ Will says quietly, reaching up to stroke her face. ‘I thought you’d gone, but recently I feel as though you’ve come back to me.’

She smiles softly. ‘I thought I’d lost you too,’ she says. ‘This last year has been …’ She doesn’t finish. She can’t finish.

She watches as a shadow of anguish crosses his face, as his brow furrows, as his jaw tightens. She recognises that look, recognises the pain he is trying to hide. She hears the shudder of his breath. His eyes flick away for a moment; he pauses for a fraction too long.

‘No,’ he says. ‘You never lost me. I’ll always be here.’

She kisses him gently then, and feels his hand drift down the bones of her spine.

Later, showered and dressed, they finally appear in the kitchen; Will’s younger brother, Jamie, is already sitting at the table drinking coffee. Will and Fran are hardly able to stop touching each other.

Jamie smiles at them, raising an eyebrow. ‘You’re up late,’ he says. Fran feels herself blushing, her stomach flipping over, and turns away towards the toaster.

‘Thanks for last night,’ Jamie goes on. ‘I needed that.’ Recently separated from his wife, living apart from his children, Jamie is lonely. Last night wasn’t the first Saturday night he’d spent with them. Fran knows Will has been throwing himself into cheering his brother up. She doesn’t mind. Jamie makes Will smile and it’s good to see him smile again.

As Will and Jamie start talking about the cricket, she feels her husband’s hand on her thigh, the warm, solid sensation of him right there next to her. They have been given a second chance, and they have grabbed it with both hands. She isn’t naive enough to think everything is going to go back to the way it used to be, but she knows that they can move on; they can talk and heal together. They can take another chance on living, find a new kind of normal.

Will stretches, draining his coffee cup. ‘This weather isn’t going to let up is it?’ he says looking out of the window where the rain is rattling against the frames like beads in a jar. ‘I’m going to have to cancel the cricket.’ As captain of the village team it is up to him to reschedule this afternoon’s match. Fran is quietly delighted that the weather means she doesn’t have to spend her last afternoon with her husband before she goes away watching him play cricket. Will gets up and walks into his study, shutting the door behind him.

‘How are you feeling about tomorrow?’ Jamie asks.

‘Nervous,’ Fran replies. ‘It’s the first time I’ve been on a plane on my own, which is pathetic at my age, I know.’

‘It’s OK to be nervous.’

‘It’s the first time Will and I have been apart since …’ She trails off. Jamie knows what she’s talking about. ‘I’m worried about him too.’

Jamie smiles. ‘I’ll look after him,’ he says.

After a moment Jamie gets up and follows Will into his study. He doesn’t knock; he just opens the door and walks in. As Fran starts to clear the breakfast dishes she hears raised voices but can’t quite make out what they are saying. She rolls her eyes to herself. As an only child she has long since given up on understanding Will and Jamie’s relationship: best friends one minute, bickering the next. She just hopes Jamie doesn’t stay too long – she wants her husband to herself for the day.

 

Will

It rains all day, the sky grey and waterlogged and heavy with cloud. After Jamie leaves, Will pulls Fran towards him, his hands at the back of her head where her skull meets her neck, where her hair is cut so short.

‘No cricket,’ he says. ‘I’m all yours.’

She smiles, standing on tiptoe to kiss him.

‘Can we just watch a film or something?’ she says. ‘I’m tired and I have to pack for Spain later.’ His stomach drops at the thought of her going away. He wishes he’d never encouraged her to do it.

‘I’d forgotten about Spain,’ he says.

‘No you hadn’t. It’s the only thing we’ve talked about for ages.’

Will had watched Fran spend the last few weeks flipping back and forth between excitement and terror at the thought of going to Spain on her own. He knew she was strong enough to do it; he knew she was stronger than anyone realised. But he also knew that she wondered if she was ready. When she first mentioned Spain to him he had seen it as a perfect opportunity to help her begin to put herself back together again after what had been the worst year of both their lives. He tried to believe that everything life threw at him was an opportunity.

Fran had been teaching at a studio in central Cambridge for six years and had been asked to teach for a week on a retreat in Spain. Will had always supported her teaching, always tried to put her career on a level par with his own and had done everything he could to help her find the strength to go back to work in January. None of it had felt as though it was enough. None of it would make up for the last year, the things he had said, the things he had done. Suddenly he is terrified about being on his own. Neither of them have been alone for months.

‘What do you want to watch?’ he asks, squatting down in front of the TV.

‘Can we watch Some Like it Hot?’ Fran replies.

Will rolls his eyes. He must have seen it a hundred times, but puts it in the DVD player anyway and goes to settle himself on the sofa. ‘Come here,’ he says, and she sits with him, leaning back against his chest.

‘Are you OK about Spain?’ he asks quietly.

‘I think so,’ she says. ‘I’m nervous, but I’m excited as well.’

‘Elizabeth will be there with you, won’t she?’

‘Yes, and Constance. In fact, I already know most of the other people who are going. I’ll be fine.’ She pauses. ‘Are you going to be OK?’ she asks quietly.

‘I’m going to miss you,’ he says, lying back on the sofa, wrapping his arms around her. He doesn’t know how to answer the question. He wants to tell her everything but knows that now is not the right time.

‘I’m going to miss you too,’ she replies.

He kisses the top of her head as she presses ‘play’ on the remote control. He watches her as she watches her favourite film, her lips moving along with the characters – she still knows every word by heart. They used to spend rainy Sundays like this when they were younger, when life seemed easier.

Halfway through the film he realises that Fran is crying – fat, salty tears running down her cheeks.

‘Fran?’ he asks quietly, pressing pause on the remote.

Fran doesn’t reply, she just turns around and he takes her in his arms. He feels her body against his. She clings to him as though her life depends on it and he holds her close as she cries and cries. He can’t remember the last time he saw her cry like this. They had both done their grieving in private over the last year but to Will it feels as though Fran has been holding all this in for months, shutting herself down. He’s relieved that she finally seems ready to let go.

‘I want my old life back,’ she sobs. ‘I want to be happy again.’

‘So do I,’ Will whispers. ‘And we will, in time. I promise.’

‘I wish we’d never bought this house – we had so much hope.’

‘Shhh …’ Will says softly, stroking her hair as she weeps against him.

———

Author Bio Rachel Burton

Rachel Burton has been making up stories since she first learned to talk. After many false starts she finally made one up that was worth writing down.

After graduating with a degree in Classics and another in English, she didn’t really know what to do when she grew up. She has worked as a waitress, a paralegal and a yoga teacher.

She has spent most of her life between Cambridge and London but now lives in Leeds with her boyfriend and three cats. The main loves of her life are The Beatles and very tall romantic heroes.

Her debut, The Many Colours of Us, was an Amazon Kindle bestseller. Her second novel, The Things We Need to to Say, is released on 11 May 2018. She is currently working on her third novel in which the heroine follows the love of her life to live in a city in northern England. It has no autobiographical elements at all…..maybe.

Find her on Twitter & Instagram as @bookish_yogi or search Facebook for Rachel Burton Author. She is always happy to talk books, writing, music, cats and how the weather in Yorkshire is rubbish. She is mostly dreaming of her next holiday….

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#NEW “Korrupted Angels: An MC Crossover Novella” by Geri Glenn, Kathleen Kelly

Title: Korrupted Angels
Author: Geri Glenn and Kathleen Kelly
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: February 2, 2018 

The Grinders are playing Sturgis during their ever famous Motorcycle Rally and the Ol’ Ladies of the Kings of Korruption are dying to go. Add in the Savage Angels, a vicious attack and one broken King and you have yourself a recipe for one gripping love story between two unlikely lovers.

Geri Glenn is the international best-selling author of Kings Of Korruption MC Series. 

Geri and her family just recently bought their dream home in her hometown of Brockville, Ontario, Canada. She is a military wife, the mother of two gorgeous, but slightly crazy little girls, and is a full time writer of the ultimate alpha male.


Kathleen Kelly was born in Penrith, NSW, Australia. When she was four her family moved to Brisbane, QLD, Australia. Although born in NSW she considers herself a QUEENSLANDER!!

She married her childhood sweetheart and they live in Toowoomba with their two furry kids. A British Short Hair named Grace and a Burmese named Jack. 

Kathleen enjoys writing contemporary, romance novels with a little bit of erotica. She draws her inspiration from family, friends and the people around her. She can often be found in cafes writing and observing the locals. 

If you have any questions about her novels or would like to ask Kathleen a question she can be contacted via e-mail: kathleenkellyauthor@gmail.com or she can be found on Facebook. She loves to be contacted by those that love her books.
 
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“Love Through Heartache: A Fantasy Romance Anthology”

Love Through Heartache cover

 

Love Through Heartache: A Fantasy Romance Anthology

by Multiple Authors

Genre: Fantasy Romance

99¢ for a limited time!

LOVE THROUGH HEARTACHE, a limited edition fantasy romance bundle, which brings you a selection of new and exclusive stories guaranteed to make you crave more.

Get ready to DIVE into stories by up and coming authors ready to blow your mind.

Paulina Woods

M. Garzon

Monica Enderle Pierce

Elle Clouse

A.R. DeClerck

D.A. Stein

E.L. Roux

Jane B. Night

DON’T WAIT! This boxset is only going to be around for a limited time.

 

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“Goddess of the Wild Thing” by Paul DeBlassie III #Excerpt


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———

EXCERPT

Excerpt III

Unending man dramas weren’t necessary to life and well-being. She was educated, had plenty of common sense, and was street-smart. Countless members of the male species spoke of her in hushed tones at the cantina, in university hallways, and at social events when friends and colleagues were relaxed and enjoying themselves during the cool, high-desert nights. The thought of hooking up with the most desirable of fantasy felines for the evening rippled through the undercurrent of verbal exchange. She should be able to attract the right kind of man, one who was kind and caring and didn’t bring tidal waves of emotional drama.

Eve had no time to waste. She needed the counsel of her trusted friend and spiritual guide. This turn of events was unlike any she’d ever encountered. It was violent and bloody and made her fear for her safety.

This new fellow had seemed genuine, courtly, romantic, and hot. He gave off a world-wise and street savvy vibe. There was a gentleness and sensitivity to him, more so than the typical single, middle-aged male on the lookout for female companionship and mind-blowing times.

However, she’d unwittingly found trouble and needed guidance from Graciéla, a seventy-eight-year-old wise woman, crone, and seer into confusing matters of the heart. Graciéla waited for Eve at the Sage Metaphysical Bookstore where she served as resident manager for an absentee owner. Even after an exhausting day of seeing one desperate soul after another, Graciéla agreed that Eve’s situation was critical. She’d stay late for a friend and frightened soul.

Eve had to park blocks from the store because lately, downtown had become a hub of clubs, theaters, and trendy restaurants appealing to a congestion of new money and hot times. Close-in parking was locked up by happy hour, so blocks away was her only choice. She caught herself looking nervously from side to side and down twilight-shadowed alleyways as she hurried along the cracked sidewalk. She felt safer along these edgy streets with Shirley by her side, a genuine person and mystic cohort.

“Eve, honey . . .” Shirley paused before going on.

Eve knew Shirley hesitated because she was trying to be conciliatory—not an easy talent for a hard-bitten woman.

The pause passed. “On the other hand, maybe if bad love is what we get, bad love is just what we take. If there’s something better, I’m in . . . just saying I’ve never seen it. Till I do, I for one gotta go with what I get.” Her look toughened. “It’s just not come my way, and I’m not holding a sure-to-turn-me-blue breath.” A tough attitude toward life, love, and men was her stock-in-trade.

Eve smiled a bit. She loved her friend and all her rough spots and edges. There were people who were mean but not nasty, malicious, or toxic. Shirley was hardened and mean but only when and if she needed to be.

Shirley’s hair floated a few inches away from her shoulders, static currents conjuring magic. Eve’s peripheral vision caught the streaks of what she imagined as a bonfire during a war dance. Shirley spoke from experience, a woman smitten by man potential going south quicker than a rattler hisses and bites.

Eve kept up her pace as she contemplated Shirley’s words. Settling for less than what she wanted was no good. It left her cold and empty. It was definitely no good. Plus, Shirley didn’t know the whole story, only that gloom about the prospect of men and love had descended, and Eve was taking it hard.

“Bad love’s a risk, Shirley. No good for me. If I need to cut this thing short, so be it. But I’d rather see it through. Maybe there’s a chance that the bad I’m afraid of isn’t there. Maybe I’m blowing it up into something it isn’t. Maybe there’s good and I’m thinking it’s bad. So if the good is down deep, real deep—I want to hold on and give it a chance.” Eve pondered the words as a light rain started up. Then she went on, “I need to hear what Graciéla has to say. I’d like to give things a chance. I’m not giving up unless there’s no way out of emotional dead-ends and never-ending heartache.”

Mists formed along the edges of the potholed asphalt and cracked sidewalks. They twisted and curled, arising out of a subterranean ether sphere. Usually, they arose during the early morning and hovered inches above the downtown park’s green expanse, hardly ever at night with its fading daytime desert heat, and hardly ever along the paved spaces. Darkness descended and pressed down like a heavy hand, edgy and ominous.

 

———

Goddess of the Wild Thing coverTitle: Goddess of the Wild Thing

Author: Paul DeBlassie III

Genre: Paranormal Thriller

Goddess of the Wild Thing is a dramatic tale of one woman’s spiritual journey where magical happenings, unexpected turns of fate, and unseen forces influence her ability to love and be loved. Eve Sanchez, a middle-aged woman and scholar of esoteric studies, encounters a seductive but frightening man who introduces her to a supernatural world in which the wicked powers of a surrogate mother’s twisted affection threaten love and life. In the mystic realms of Aztlan del Sur, Eve and three friends struggle with whether bad love is better than no love and discover that love is a wild thing.

 

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———

Author BioPaul DeBlassie

Paul DeBlassie III, Ph.D. is a depth psychologist and award-winning writer living in his native New Mexico. He specializes in treating individuals in emotional and spiritual crisis. His novels, visionary thrillers, delve deep into archetypal realities as they play out dramatically in the lives of everyday people. Memberships include the Author’s Guild, the Depth Psychology Alliance, the International Association for Relational Psychoanalysis and Psychotherapy, and the International Association for Jungian Studies.

Links

Twitter: https://twitter.com/pdeblassieiii

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/theunholy.deblassie/

Website: pauldeblassieiii.com


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