I gotta tell you, I am neck-deep in book revisions. I don’t know if you know this, but I write books for HarperCollins in my spare time, along with my current full-time job at the Utah Legislature, and my column at The Salt Lake Tribune.
Book revisions can be intense. Basically, what it comes down to is this: For all those times I took a shortcut, or produced lazy writing/plotting/typing, or steered clear of creativity to make things easier, my editor calls me out.
In fact, I write with two fellow authors, who call me out on a daily basis.
“Called out.” Did you know that that particular phrase comes from gambling? Specifically, poker. To “call someone out” is to put your money where your mouth is. It means, basically, to go all-in, and demand to see your opponent’s cards.
Wait. Now I’d have to explain where the phrase “put your money where your mouth is” comes from.
I always give first drafts of anything I write to my mom. This is the woman who taught me, when I was a 5-year-old, the wonderful game of: “Onomatopoeia.”
Let me explain the rules. We would jump on our trampoline (which had zero safety nets) and every time we jumped, we would have to say a word that fit within the guidelines for Onomatopoeia (the formation of a word from a sound associated with what that word means). “Splash!” “Slap!” “Blam! Whack!”
I have to tell you that I thought this game was extremely fun. I was wrong. Also, this might explain why I had no friends.
So when I recently got my revision letter from my editor for my latest book, I consulted my mother.
She told me to avoid clichés. I agreed. Using clichés is lazy writing.
Today, I complained to a friend about how much writing I have to do, and how many deadlines I have to meet. He said, “I’m sure you’ll step up to the occasion.”
But really, just once, I’d like to step down to the occasion. Or, more efficiently, slide down to the occasion. On a steep metal slide, where gravity is the only friend you have to count on. I’d even settle for sidling up without any physical exertion toward the occasion.
I have a sister who never gets clichés. One time when we were at a restaurant, she asked the waitress for more Diet Coke, and then she told her, “I have a wooden leg for that stuff.”
We took a while to explain that having a wooden leg for something is very different than having a hollow leg for something.
Send me some of your least favorite clichés. Because it’s now or never. Let’s circle the wagons and win one for the gipper.
Brodi Ashton is a New York Times best-selling author who lives in the Salt Lake City area. She’s also an occasional columnist for The Salt Lake Tribune.
