I had two things in mind when I started this post.
The first was trajectory in writing.
The second was sentimentality.
I always think I have a clear trajectory until the story line veers into sentimentality, and then my inner critic, a snaggle toothed harpy from Writers’ Hell, named, Griselda, sets her jaundiced eye on my tenderest outpourings, and pokes me with her hat pin, sniping, “Not on my watch, dearie.”
I looked for an image that would demonstrate what I’m talking about, but no one has yet drawn Griselda to my satisfaction, and trajectory gave me pages of diagrams and equations, which left me with sentimentality. Tons of hearts and flowers and teddy bears. No, no, no, better to look for synonyms. Would sweet do? Yes, perhaps. Except sweet led me to recall a perfectly sublime chocolate bar I used to buy in Budapest which, sadly, is not being manufactured anymore. I brought two dozen of those back to the U.S. during that awful Hoof-and-Mouth outbreak of 2001. The customs official looked inside my bag, saw the bars peeking out and said, “What have you got in there?” When I said, “Chocolate bars,” he rolled his eyes and told me to move along. I did discover a new line of chocolate bars made by the same Hungarian company that made the chocolate bars I loved. Unfortunately, I don’t believe they are being sold in the U.S….
Oh, my. I’ve done it again, haven’t I?
Well, I think I think I can find my way, at least with my latest oeuvre; but if I can’t, Griselda will undoubtedly let me know.
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