Musings from my day in class.

On Sunday while sitting and listening to the conversations in the second session of the editing course I an attending. I heard our tutor use the term or phrase, ‘purple prose.’. Of course with all the information my tired grey matter was soaking up I missed the full understanding of the phrase.

Now because it’s a writing course I took a wild assumption it wasn’t a new song by the formally alive artist, formally known as Prince. So I enquired the all knowing, all seeing, great and powerful wizard of Google.

Well, I couldn’t see any song with that title. But I did find out what the term meant, in a literary sense. This intake of understanding, while enlightening, preceded a hysterical scream and a series of plaster-shattering thumps.

Sitting back in my chair, brushing the plaster dust from my face and hair, I concluded that unless I changed something in my style, any book cover my story would need will be a gorgeous monotone of violet.

Now back to this sessions homework.


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