Over the last month and a half, I have begun to write up several articles that I didn't finish.
They started up nicely, and had a bit of a flow in the beginning. Perfectly dry one liners, sharp hooks to grab the intended audience, clever quips and enchanting descriptions were all there. But not for long.
I would stop, read back, and realize it was all garbage. The idea was a good one, but where ever the thing was going, it was just a wad of knotted up fishing line. A reader wouldn't ever get from beginning to end with any idea of what was going on in the middle.
What was going on? Why couldn't I quit winding ideas around one another until they were a useless mass of words that didn't join together?
I began to have another thought about some great article while I was washing up the supper dishes this evening. It sounded smashing as the sentences spun themselves out in my mind. I began to smile while spinning out this essay. It would be brilliant!
And that's when I realized.
My mind's narrator has a British accent. Everything it says sounds top drawer.
Until I put it down in my own voice. Then it doesn't work.
So, dear readers, you've been exposed to my sad inner dialogue, who believes herself to be quite the natty gal.
*sigh*
Here's hoping I find my voice again, and soon!
