THE EDITOR’S TABLE: “In which our Esteemed Editress, Prudence Peaseley, extends herself from beyond the grave, to give, this week, some Gentle Remonstrations with regard to the Frequent Application of Inconvenient Adjectives.”
Go on, Miss P:
It’s almost noon and you’re three coffees deep inside a page-long description that has more twists and vistas than a Bolivian overpass. You’re rereading, as you have every day for the past three months, and you’re taking your own breath away, but in the back of your mind, an itch. It’s lovely, right? But maybe it’s also, just possibly, utterly mind-numbingly dull?
The answer, Gentle Writer, is Hells yeah. But fret not. We at PtD.com are all for the gothic flourish, and we’d never want to tread on your soaring truth. But if perchance you have fallen down a descriptive rabbit hole, we want you to get up. Really.
Help us to help you. Simply open your doc and enter a word search for:
flaccid (we kid, we kid. best word ever.)
Any matches? Oh, Excellent. Now, delete that whole paragraph. And then go ahead and delete the next paragraph, too. Just to be safe.
You’re very welcome.
Have a multitudinous day.
(borgeous: BORE-jess. adj. when boring fights gorgeous, and wins.)
“We try to do all this, and if we succeed, we are delighted.”
—P.P., ed., R.I.P.