The other day, I was reading a post about content and what people like to see on blogs and all that stuff which I’d previously not been savvy to. It was quite an interesting post and one that I’d recommend for anyone interested. You can find it here.
But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.
In it, she says that we don’t write novels with titles like: The Virtuous Semicolon, The Sentence That Kept Running, and the such. I didn’t disagree with her, and I still think she’s right. But my only thought was—
This is, sadly enough, not one of my worst ideas. There was the contraption of string, shoelaces, and duct tape I created when I was seven to shut my bedroom door from the comfort of my own bed (it fell apart at the first tug). The day I tried pushing one car out of the snowbank with another (both got stuck). Others come to mind. None of them were my finest achievements.
But my mind has already started working on this concept. Especially that Virtuous Semicolon. I picture it flying between buildings, jumping clauses in a single bound, chasing the ne’er-do-wells Period and Comma. There’s more, but I’m sure I should keep it to myself. My mind lacks the pristine beauty of a National Park. Sometimes that makes things more interesting, but more often than not, I end up confused and feeling sorry for the poor sod who had to listen to me.
How does everyone else’s minds react when they hear something like that? Am I the only one?