In order to understand what makes good prose, take some beautiful writing and rewrite it to be less so.
Ah…I was making a bad romance novel cover at home, now taking someone to their doctor apt. When I have it done, I will post it.
I already had that one called “Stacked”.
Just contact any popular YA romance author today.
TBH, I don’t give a crap if the prose is beautiful or not, as long as it progresses the story, and as long as it makes sense in context and is grammatically correct. And it’s not too dry, or too purple.
You may regret those words.
Because I will ruin the writing of your work
Good luck. It’s already messed up lol
Unwrap the stupidity.
The best part is that’s a mask rendered as human and blended with another blended human, so not a real person at all.
But this is more what you’re looking for:
Once upon a midnight blurry, while I pondered, weak like slurry,
While petting a quaint and curious dog from the movie UP—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a scrabbling,
As of something gently cracking, scratching up my chamber floor—
“'Tis some rodentia,” I muttered, “tapping on my chamber floor—
Only this and nothing…”
12. White Fang by Jack London
“As the days went by, the evolution of like into love was accelerated. White Fang himself began to grow aware of it, though in his consciousness he knew not what love was. It manifested itself to him as a void in his being—a hungry, aching, yearning void that clamoured to be filled. It was a pain and an unrest; and it received easement only by the touch of the new god’s presence. At such times love was joy to him, a wild, keen-thrilling satisfaction. But when away from his god, the pain and the unrest returned; the void in him sprang up and pressed against him with its emptiness, and the hunger gnawed and gnawed unceasingly.”
The days dripped by like the evolutionary sludge of like to love. White Fang himself began to grow aware of it as if it was a scent, an obsession of the primitive mind. It made him hungry: an aching, yearning void that clamored to be filled. It was stomach pain and unspent wanderlust; and it received energy from an eldritch god. At such times love was the excitement of nausea, a wild, pent-up expulsion. But when away from his god or blinded by Covid, the failure to thrive returned; the void in him sprang up and pressed against him with its emptiness, and abyss of death chuckled unceasingly.
Here’s one that’s actually prose.
The crazy part is it isn’t badly written in a grammatical sense or a humorous one, but trying to take it seriously is a no-go.
What probably hurts my writing the most is this sense of humor plagues everything.
I found quotes from these books I liked as a child (and probably still like) and rewrote them
original (a little princess)
“Whatever comes," she said, "cannot alter one thing. If I am a princess in rags and tatters, I can be a princess inside. It would be easy to be a princess if I were dressed in cloth of gold, but it is a great deal more of a triumph to be one all the time when no one knows it.”
“Whatever comes up I’mma be chill caus that’s cool and stuff,” was said by her.
original (watership down)
At that moment, in the sunset on Watership Down, there was offered to General Woundwort the opportunity to show whether he was really the leader of vision and genius which he believed himself to be, or whether he was no more than a tyrant with the courage and cunning of a pirate. For one beat of his pulse the lame rabbit’s idea shone clearly before him. He grasped it and realized what it meant. The next, he had pushed it away from him.
General Woundwort considered it for a tiny bit then said no.
original (goodnight moon)
In the great green room, there was a telephone and a red balloon, and a picture of
The cow jumping over the moon
And there were three little bears sitting on chairs
And two little kittens and a pair of mittens
And a little toyhouse and a young mouse
And a comb and a brush and bowl full of mush
And a quitet old lady who was whispering “hush”.
I'm so sorry
so there is this big room with lots of stuff in it like this comb, and also a brush, and also and it is nighttime and there is a cow jumping over a moon but it was just the picture and it wasn’t just a moon it was our moon and there were bears but like they weren’t like real bears or most real bears they weren’t like bad guys and also they were small but they are not real it was just a picture and there were cats but they were young and mittens existed in the room and the room which was big compared to all the other stuff because it had to hold all the other stuff or it did hold the other stuff it didn’t have to it just did or does wait which tense am I in was green with a telephone somewhere and a red balloon and oh yeah the bears from earlier have been on chairs this entire time I just forgot to mention that and a small toyhouse or relatively small but not compared to a mouse which was young which was also in the room and a bowl of mush existing as well in the room and a old lady who’s actually saying something but there’s not enough volume that this old lady has, sorry didn’t catch that what’s that?
oh it’s ‘shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh’
Lmao. So: succinct kills the flavor and prattling kills the flavor.
That is hilarious!
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