Fluff, clutter, cliche. To hell with all of you! My instructors are on a rampage (cliche), and their goal is to strip down our writing to its bare bones (cliche). Break it down to build it back up, with a friendly slap on the wrist.
Wait! Slap on the wrist is a cliche too! So is kick in the pants! So is pedal to the metal! Aaaaah, no words left!
Writing without cliches or unnecessary words is hard. Especially when you're writing your first, hopelessly flawed draft.
The editor/heinous critical bitch in my head is having a field day (cliche) with this!
"Zip it! There is nothing to say! If you fail to combine words in a way that's never been done before you are drab, lazy, and a big big loser!"
And so we plod on. I tell that inner critic to take a hike (cliche), and leave me to my sweaty work.
I acknowledge that the editor in my head will never hit the road (cliche), so I must try to take a stab at (cliche) some kind of truce. Or, like that annoyingly verbose family member everyone has, I will learn to tune her out.
In the end, we must write. Because it makes us sane and insane. Because someone is waiting for it. Because to hear the critic and write anyway takes courage, and who doesn't want to be courageous.
And after that sweaty, shitty, cliche-loaded first draft gets its first edit, we may find that there is something worth salvaging, something that means something, something worth saying.