Writing Glitch 1018

Today’s glitch:

Argh!

Yeah, I know it’s partly my fault, because I’m the one who keeps using examples from this source, and I keep using them because they’re so bad… Sometimes I don’t want to bother with the little, add-a-comma-and-you’re-done glitches, y’know? Sometimes I want a big, ugly mess to clean up, so I can feel that I’ve accomplished something.

Anyway…

Change Your to You’re.

Capitalize Wild West.

You can keep the hyperbole — that exclamation mark at the end of the first sentence — if it makes you feel better. Just be aware than many readers (*raises hand*) dislike exclamation marks in narration and feel that such should be reserved for dialogue.

…And what the hell is going on with the second sentence? I think the writer meant something along the lines of a year’s earnings for anyone else is pocket change for you, but that’s not what’s actually there… The sentences also jump all over the place with no transitions: what does the rumor of “creatures that talk” have to do with the POV character being stinkin’ rich?

This looks like another example that cannot be fixed (at all) without a lot of rewriting, ’cause just moving some punctuation won’t make sense of this mess.

You’re the richest person in the Wild West; a year’s earnings for anyone else is just pocket change for you.

Lately you’ve been hearing rumors of creatures that talk. That sounds delightful… or it does until you hear that Horten, you favorite butler, has been kidnapped by these beings. The ransom note says that they want something called a sonic emitter, plus ten horseshoes and the brain of one of your dead relatives.

The first problem with this is that everyone related to you suffered a bullet-related illness of the head, and the second is that there is no way you’re not going to try out your new solid-gold gun on some monsters who took your favorite butler.

This is the Wild West, after all.

Better grammar and punctuation and whatnot now, at least, but still stupid in some of its details. Fun fact: Gold is a terrible metal to make a gun from, because it isn’t nearly strong enough.

 

 

 

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About Thomas Weaver

For several years, I’ve been putting my uncanny knack for grammar and punctuation, along with an eclectic mental collection of facts, to good use as a Wielder of the Red Pen of Doom (editor). I'm physically disabled, and I currently live with my smugly good-looking twin Paul, who writes military science fiction and refuses to talk about his military service because he can’t. Sometimes Paul and I collaborate on stories, and sometimes I just edit whatever he writes. It's worked out rather well so far. My list of non-writing-related jobs from the past includes librarian, art model, high school teacher, science lab gofer… Although I have no spouse or offspring to tell you about, I do have six cats. (The preferred term is "Insane Cat Gentleman.") I currently spend my time blogging, reading, editing, and fending off cats who like my desk better than my twin’s.
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