Overkill

Some songs set your feet tapping and the tune is so simple even non-singers test their lungs. I recently heard a modern cover version of a such a hum-along. Only now it wasn’t.

Picture a marching band and a symphony orchestra simultaneously being shoved down a very steep flight of concrete stairs while still playing. That will give you an idea of the production. It reminded me of our school band when we were eight years old – everyone got an instrument to blow, bang or strum with all their might. Name That Tune. No chance.

I produce a similar result whenever I try to cook. I keep adding things in the hope of beefing up (or chickening up) the original recipe. I go from one end of the spice rack to the other: Chillis, Oregano, Sea Salt, Cumin, Ginger, Basil. You name it and the chances are a pinch will be sprinkled in the pot. The result – as flavoursome as chewing on the end of a pencil.

“What do you call this?” guests ask. Not because they want to chase up the recipe, but they’re hoping I might give a hint of what it originally was: beef, chicken, pig, or fish. Animal, Vegetable or Mineral.

Switch from the music and the food, to writing.

I’m not a big believer in all the fences and high jumps put in the way of telling a good story. You obviously need the tools of decent grammar, spelling, and some sentence structure or your tale will read like those well-remembered assembly instructions for flat-pack furniture. or even Joyce’s Finnegan’s Wake.

AND you’re in danger of getting much the same effect as the musical clamour and culinary overkill if you use bunches of adverbs and adjectives.

What you’re trying to get across is lost in the background clutter. And it’ll end up like the pot mess with too many herbs – stodgy, tasteless and boring.

Keep it clean and simple – an unaccompanied gospel tune or river-fresh trout need few additives to be perfect. If you’ve got the right word, chances are it won’t need embellishment.

“What do you call this?” guests ask. Not because they want to chase up the recipe, but they’re hoping I might give a hint of what it originally was: beef, chicken, pig, or fish. Animal, Vegetable or Mineral.

Switch from the music and the food, to writing.

I’m not a big believer in all the fences and high jumps put in the way of telling a good story. You obviously need the tools of decent grammar, spelling, and some sentence structure or your tale will read like those well-remembered assembly instructions for flat-pack furniture. or even Joyce’s Finnegan’s Wake.

AND you’re in danger of getting much the same effect as the musical clamour and culinary overkill if you use bunches of adverbs and adjectives.

What you’re trying to get across is lost in the background clutter. And it’ll end up like the pot mess with too many herbs – stodgy, tasteless and boring.

Keep it clean and simple – an unaccompanied gospel tune or river-fresh trout need few additives to be perfect. If you’ve got the right word, chances are it won’t need embellishment.