I firmly resolve and forswear to work hard at sharpening my writing skills by never, ever writing run-on sentences unless they are called for by content of the story or one of the characters steps up and says he is going to say thus and so causing the sentence to become first a paragraph, then a page and thus running the risk of causing the reader’s head to swim and eyes to cross but then, I guess that’s the way the old ball bounces.
I firmly resolve to use shorter and more succinct words when elaborating on scenic descriptions which are pertinent to encouraging the storyline to become ambulatory instead of stagnating in some insipid and inert pool of affectation.
I firmly resolve to chek my speling and never, ever, not even hardlee ever send in a manuskrip to a publisher that has a bunch of mispelt words. Nope, Nun!
When a manuscript is returned to me for various and sundry reasons, I resolve never, ever, not even hardly ever to voice any recriminations or resort to the questionable practice of muttering vile incantations, knowing that such things have a way of bouncing back to the incantor, sort of like a boomerang with disastrous and unintended consequences.
When one, two, or, praise the Lord, all of my cozy mysteries wind up in Amazon’s top 100 list of best sellers, I firmly resolve I will not run shouting down the street, waving my arms and laughing like an idiot. I also firmly resolve that I will not hold my breath until experiencing such an exalted estate.
Furthermore and in the spirit of a brand new year which stretches before me like a road enticing me to travel to unknown places, I firmly resolve that next year I will not think of, enunciate, or form any New Year’s resolutions whatsoever. Nope, Nun!
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