Excerpt one From “The Golden Book On Writing” By David Lambuth Circa 1923

” A Pale Green Mermaid Blog “

David Lambuth was a Professor at Dartmouth College, he and his colleagues compiled this book on “common sense “rules for writing.  Professor Lambuth stated that ” make a picture with the nouns and make that picture move with verbs.”

INITIAL ADVICE

 

“Use your eyes and ears. Think. Read . And then when you have found your idea, don’t be afraid of it – or of your pen and paper; write it down as nearly as possible as you would express it in a speech; swiftly, un-selfconsciously, without stopping to think about the form of it all.  Revise it afterwards – but only afterwords.

Clear thinking and not a mastery of rules makes good writing,  set down in simple natural speech and afterwards  revised in accordance with good usage.

The particular difficulties which always come up by the score have to be wrestled with as special problems by the man who is trying to capture his own ideas  and get them down on paper.

Read… read and still read.

 

Dashiell Hammett prose,

He came away from the telephone frowning. “Wynant’s back in town,” he said, “and wants me to meet him.”

I turned around with the drinks I had poured. “Well, the lunch can–“

“Let him wait,” he said, and took one of the glasses from me.

“Still as screwy as ever?”

“That’s no joke,” Macaulay said solemnly. “You heard they had him in a sanatorium for nearly a year back in ’29?”

“No.”

He nodded. He sat down, put his glass on a table beside his chair, and leaned towards me a little. “What’s Mimi up to, Charles?”

“Mimi? Oh, the wife–the ex-wife. I don’t know. Does she have to be up to something?”

“She usually is,” he said dryly, and then very slowly, “and I thought you’d know.”
He came away from the telephone frowning. “Wynant’s back in town,” he said, “and wants me to meet him.”

I turned around with the drinks I had poured. “Well, the lunch can–“

“Let him wait,” he said, and took one of the glasses from me.

“Still as screwy as ever?”

“That’s no joke,” Macaulay said solemnly. “You heard they had him in a sanatorium for nearly a year back in ’29?”

“No.”

He nodded. He sat down, put his glass on a table beside his chair, and leaned towards me a little. “What’s Mimi up to, Charles?”

“Mimi? Oh, the wife–the ex-wife. I don’t know. Does she have to be up to something?”

“She usually is,” he said dryly, and then very slowly, “and I thought you’d know.”

 

Bye,  ” She ran her nails through her blonde red hair as she pulled the knife from her stocking top, placing it underneath the telephone.”

 

 

Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. from wikipedia

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