If I could have a perfect writing style, it would most certainly be my own. I’d take stock in soul, brevity and wit — and cadence. Let’s not ever forget cadence, because ‘dem words need dat riddum.
When a sparkling idea would come my way, I’d nab it with a tiny magic mesh net and wrestle it down until it cries out a perfect concatenation of nouns and verbs and adjectives to describe itself. Then I’d get to work and let my fingers on the keyboard to clickity-talking.
On the most remarkable days my brain will be shut off and resting during these moments.
Many ideas, of course, will escape the net, but I’d hone my skills to capture only the finest and rarest ones. I’d harvest them like they do with salmon in Alaska — for subsistence. Besides, I never was a catch and release guy — I’m a writer, dammit.
There, I said it.