REVIEWING

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Many hours of reviewing. Many hours of soul-searching. Is it justified to say it as I see it? Will it just get angst agoing? Questions. Questions.

Well, I've spent the whole morning reviewing and now I'm going to write another piece short and sweet and hope it will get considered.

      What I got reinforced this morning (because I have already reviewed a bit before) is that we self-published authors put out a lot of stuff and not all of it is checked. So, point number one, if you can (and you can!), check for mistakes. It's much better than not checking.

      I also got my head bashed in this morning by the amount of repetitive stuff I had to get through. Call it amplification, call it repetition for effect, call it what you will, but self-published authors don't seem to cut down, rather cut up, and it's not that interesting after a while. Sort out what is relevant. Go for concision and precision not vast rafts of autobiographical waffle.

      I got my little noddle addled by other stuff, too : writing which does not leave me free to decide or which is not interesting but which is telling me that so-and-so has a marvellous life or a handsome son or a lot of easy money in his easy bank account. Here, I'm not using actual examples, but I think my point will be taken. Right. Is it that we all just want to publish a book at any cost? Is it that we consider everything that happens to us is readable? Have we forgotten we can bore the pants off people? Is plot, character, development, imagination, and the effective use of words, off, completely off?

      What about books on literary devices (have we read any?) and the deviant language that always makes the literary jaw drop?

      "If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well

       It were done quickly : if  the assassination

       Could trammel up the consequence, and catch

       With his surcease success;.............................."

      Do you catch it? Does that piece, those pieces! of alliteration flabbergast you? Yer, OK, it's the big bard himself, the rumptuous Swan of Avon, but literary devices and deviance are the free breath of great literature.

      Rumptuous to make the point.

      And now I'm going back to my reviewing and if I go mad I'll be starring away till the early hours of tomorrow's dawn!

      (But I won't go mad.)

 

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