Jeff and yours truly….

When my younger brother, Jeff, was learning to talk, he babbled – like a lot of toddlers. You know what I mean –incoherent combinations of sounds that make absolutely no sense, yet the child thinks he is carrying on a conversation.

One day Dad was working on something, and Jeff toddled up to him, pulled on his pants leg, and earnestly asked, “babble-babble-babble-babble….okay?” ( Yeah!  A real word!)

Dad nodded his head and said, “Okay!”

So Jeff went to a table, picked up a vase, and threw it down the basement steps.

Well? Dad DID say it was okay, didn’t he?

Sometimes I read books that are written that way. Paragraph after paragraph of printed babble. Nothing makes any sense, or catches my attention. It seems the writer is just trying to fill empty space to stretch a short story into a long one. Just words filling spaces, and my brain yawns. My mind drifts as I read and the words, even though I’m looking at them, just don’t register.

Then a single line will catch my attention, as if the author threw the vase down the stairs.

What?

I have to go back and re-read the page I just turned, thinking I missed something….and there it is, in the middle of all that babble. An explanation, or at least a hint, that leads up to that important line.

I hate when that happens.

This is why we are told over and over again to make every word count. Don’t you love reading books that suck you in and make you feel like you are part of the scene? Like you’re there, watching these things happen to friends (or foes)? And don’t you search for more stories by the authors whose books catch you like that? It’s because there are no wasted words. Every word holds your attention, carrying you through the action.

I want to write like that. That’s why my books are developing slowly. In my ‘spare’ time, I write and write and write, then set it down for a bit. When I return, I delete and delete and delete…removing the babble. Then start all over again. I don’t want you drifting off, wondering if you took the clothes out of the washer and put them into the dryer, in the middle of a chapter.

I want you to be interested. I want you to care what happens . I want you to laugh, cry, celebrate, and mourn with the people I create. I want you to forget the dishes, ignore your children, and feel emotionally exhausted when you close the book.

So every word must be important.

Repeat after me. Make Every Word Count.