Yanking on easy emotion or Letting prose breathe

Yanking on easy emotion or Letting prose breathe 

 By Dr. Sohail Ansari

Conceived and worded by DR Sohail Ansari (originality of concepts and originality of words).

He believes that there can never be a zero scope for improvement and appreciates criticism if it is not for the sake of criticism

#Yanking or Letting prose breathe#  

‘When the action is hot, write cool. Stand back. Let your prose breathe. Do not try to convince the reader to feel a certain way_ avoid yanking on the easy emotion. Instead, trust the language you have selected, the images you have constructed, the relevant detail, and give the language you have selected, the images you have constructed, the relevant detail, and give the reader plenty of room to reach the feeling independently’

The guidance of Gwartney on how to write about traumatic experience.

Yanking

·         5PM is the tea time; I sit in a garden and see three instead of two sons of mine playing. I see Ali in my mind’s eye, playing with other two in a garden, I can see the mischievous twinkle in his eyes and can hear his ringing laughter; his presence does not end here, he is always with me even when I sleep I can feel air as the warm breath of his as if he is sleeping beside me. People ask me, how many children you have; I reply: three; I know I am technically wrong; but human heart is not for technicalities.

Let prose breathe

·         I was overjoyed when my third son was born after 5 years of the birth of my second son. Ali was the name we chose for him. Ali grew more and naughtier as he grew up; his vibrancy seemed to have no limit. I could experience his naughtiness and energy when he played in garden with his older siblings. The presence of Ali had added something to a life that had made it more than beautiful and it seemed that life would always be as it was but all of sudden Ali was gone: died of simple fever. It has been ten years since; vacuum created by departure is still the aching wound; I have failed to reconcile myself to the loss; time has failed to dull the edges of grief.