Word Choice Exercise #2

Here’s an attempt at an exercise I found in Henneke Duistermaat’s article, Word Choice: How to Play With Words (and Find Your Voice). You can find more exercises and tips on her website, enchantingmarketing.com.

Five Character Variations of: “I’m a … and I’m on a mission to …”

(1.

Hi good evening I’m Phil with Nurture our Nature would you be interested in signing to— *thunk*

(2.

Madame Iris sees all, through maw of her crystal ball. Come, stranger, I’ve been expecting you for some time now. Answer destiny… answer the spirit’s call!

(3.

You call that a sit-up? C’mon! You’re here to crush some iron witha hammer! If you’re gonna pick tulips I’ll throw you in the dirt myself!

(4.

James scratched his back with his left hand while holding the notepad in his right. He’d barely written a word of what the witness, who was still ranting, had said. What was Janice doing right now? Did she put the kids to sleep? Darn, sleep. James forgot to buy that eye mask at Rite Aid. With his left hand he wrote in his notepad, buy eye mask from Rite Aid.

(5.

Hello all. Thank you for stopping by tonight, to sooth your stresses and to gently revitalize your spirits. Yes, I thank you, but more important is that you thank yourselves. As we come down to child’s pose, let out one, long breath, and thank yourself until your breath is complete.

Word Choice Exercise #1

Here’s an attempt at an exercise I found in Henneke Duistermaat’s article, Word Choice: How to Play With Words (and Find Your Voice). You can find more exercises and tips on her website, enchantingmarketing.com.

Five Character Variations of: “I’m a … and I’m on a mission to …”

(1.

I’m a carpenter, yes, I just spotted mold by your electrical outlet, hm? I’m on a mission to do my job but with such a mess how can I do my job for you?

(2.

Hiya! I cashier here at Monae’s Boutique, so lovely of you to stop in! Is this for an anniversary or a first date? I can see the butterflies in your eyes—smile!—I’ve got just the flowers to make her day.

(3.

Yeah. I work at Monae’s, you lost? Well sorry, I don’t get paid to give directions, my job’s to sell flowers. The other employers trashed my resume.

(4.

I-I’m… Hi, I’m Caden. My mommy dropped me off for furst day school. I’m fourth grade…

(5.

Portia Clementine, junior reporter for the Onyx Observer, here to stomp the gas so your story will be free and be heard by millions of Americans and so your life will be saved.

Literary Devices: Hypotaxis

Definition: “Hypotaxis also called subordinating style, is a grammatical and rhetorical term used to describe an arrangement of phrases or clauses in a dependent or subordinate relationship — that is, phrases or clauses ordered one under another. In hypotactic constructions, subordinating conjunctions and relative pronouns serve to connect the dependent elements to the main clause.” – ThoughtCo.

Dependent clauses contain subordinating conjunctions, like “when,” “because,” and “though,” as in, “though he liked ice cream.” The clause is dependent because it cannot stand alone as a sentence; it requires a main clause to make it make sense: “though he liked ice cream, he wasn’t hungry.

Hypotaxis is stacking multiple dependent clauses before the main clause: “though he liked ice cream because it tasted delicious, especially when it had sprinkles, he wasn’t hungry.

Why It’s Useful: Stacking dependent clauses in the beginning of a sentence is like the wind-up of a punch–done correctly, the main clause will hit with immense force.

Five Examples of Hypotaxis in Action

(1.

Although Mary sounds heavenly when she sings on-stage, her pre-teen voice gets just as screechy and crooked as all the other kids in her grade.

(2.

To K. Levin, who was a comic I used to open for when I was a beginner—though back then he was a beginner, too, just a damn funny one—it seemed obvious where to insert a punchline.

(3.

Where you were born when the war was taking place said a lot about your future.

(4.

That I remembered where my keys were when my roommate asked me surprised him.

(5.

When Devon found out his wallet was stolen by the same guy he gave directions to, the guy who had the gray, muck-splotched jean jacket with holes in it, the guy who had an optimism in his voice, like his hope would thrust him toward his university aspirations like a clown from a cannon—although the guy didn’t seem reckless like a clown: his clasped palms as he spoke hinted he was a cautious man—the guy who wiped his temples while Devon spoke, wiped them, Devon, assumed, to keep the tears out of his eyes as Devon loaned him $30 to catch a cab, Devon himself almost teary-eyed after hearing his story—when Devon found out his wallet that had a rare photo of his daughter and his last two credit cards was stolen, he forgot where he was and collapsed on the ground as he let out his scream.

Writing Through Space And Time

Two days ago, I was talking to my mom about reading, and with a wistful sigh, she said, “it’s such an escape.” I wanted to ask to where, but I should have asked, “how did you get there?” Actually, reader, where were my mom and I? What did you see?

I ask because words can do two things: convey information or describe a scene. Sometimes both happen simultaneously, but these words I’m saying? They’re only sounds in your mind. You can’t see me in my room typing in my red chair until I’ve told you. This technique is very useful.

Pretend you’re reading a novel. The protagonist hugs their crush in school, and for two paragraphs, time freezes while the narrator voices the protagonist’s thoughts. A novel that only showed setting and action couldn’t voice character thoughts. Conversely, a novel frozen in time to explain character thoughts would lack visuals.

Words can convey information, describe time and place, or do both.
Photo by Miguel Á. Padriñán on Pexels.com

Here’s a sample of what I mean. Note the italics versus bold. (1): To Andre, the worst kind of movies were old westerns. They were all the same: reckless hero with a sharp jawline, damsel in distress who has no opinions of her own, and endless montages of horseback riding.

(2): To Andre’s horror, a cowboy movie was playing when he returned to the physics classroom. He stood motionless by the door, his friends folding their arms or hunched forward. This is what they chose to watch?! He turned to leave but someone waved and pointed to an open seat.

In example (1), the narration is info-conveying. There are hints of visuals like the hero’s jawline, which you may have envisioned, but I’ve withheld knowledge of Andre’s location and actions—he is frozen in time. Example (2) animates Andre and the scene with phrases like “physics classroom” and “stood motionless.”

We are all skilled at info-conveying and descriptive writing. We’ve encountered the forms in essays and fiction. And yet, like other literary techniques, when we write, we tend to use the two forms unconsciously. Be aware of which form you’re using, and experiment with the ratio that you use them!