The Ecstasy of St. Gysr
I've debated as to whether or not I should share this or not, especially considering that ethically I probably oughtn't. But I think I'm going to anyway.
In going through submissions, Intern came across one manuscript that was particularly difficult to read. This would be an example of what one might call Too Much Voice. There are ellipses and exclamation points in abundance. Italics and all caps show up willy nilly. And to top it all off, portions are written in the second person and Author directly addresses Reader. This might have worked fine--if we were still in 1650 England.
So Intern decided to share the joy of this manuscript with me. I suffer through the first page of the introduction wherein Author imposes on the Reader feelings of betrayal at the apparent discord between the title of the manuscript and the content of the manuscript. Author repeatedly refers to the Gentle Yet Sophisticated Reader, eventually growing to merely abbreviate it GYSR. Author is trying to calm Reader down and to encourage Reader to find a Quiet Spot.
I turn the page and am greeted with the following gem of a paragraph. Oh, before I share this gem, let me just forewarn you that you may feel verbally violated by this paragraph. Oh, and you should also read it in your porn voice. All punctuation, spaces, styles, etc., are as in the original.
Back to our opening statement? (Insert dramatic pause, . . . building crescendo . . . hold it . . . aaaaand. . . .) YES !!! . . . Wonderful !!! WE'RE IN!!! This is GREAT!!! (Don't worry, I calm down in Chapter . . . well, come to think of it, I don't calm down . . . What can I say, sometimes life gets a little passionate.)
Now, I know Author did not intend to include a portion of a bad porn script in the manuscript, but it's still there. Intern was appalled that I had made a bad manuscript dirty. Coworker was certain that some form of sexual harassment suit could be filed. (I don't think so since I warned Coworker prior to the narration.) Coworker2 coined the new title for the manuscript and blushed profusely. Manager laughed uproariously. Personally, I had a great end to the day.
5 comments:
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Huh. I could have sworn I had commented on this. Apparently not. Perhaps I thought better of the comment. Perhaps I was in too big a hurry to erase my latest blogpost that started like this.
I ... (meaning me) (if I had not meant me I would not, of course said me, but o! the beauty of clarity) ... so I went to -- the store. The store. A place of victuals and necessities and ... checkout girls. You know what I mean because you, dear reader, come to my blog because you know what I mean and because you and I are one and should be one and are one literally ... at least in blogspace ....
And on and on like that for a good 600 or so words.
You both are just sick, Edgy and Th. Sick, sick, sick.
You say that, TexMom, but I know you're just upset that I didn't call you up to read the passage to you. You like bad writing like that. Maybe I should just send you a copy.
*Shudders* Save the postage. I already feel profusely violated by what I read on your blog.
Fine. I won't share. Sheesh . . . Try to be charitable and giving . . .
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