ALL A-QUIVER: WALKING THE STRAIGHT ’N ARROW

As an editor, I abhor repetition—stuff that repeats over and over and over and over and over and . . . you get the point. All of it gets insanely annoying.

Say it through narrative? Don’t repeat it through character dialogue. Say it through character dialogue? Don’t repeat it through narrative. And especially don’t repeat it through dialogue, and then through narrative, and then again through exposition . . . unless you’re the Lemony Snicket type who drives home an inane point in a hilarious way through eye-rolling redundancy. Once a point is raised, let it go and let stew in the reader’s mind.

In other words: Don’t beat a dead horse with the same stupid pool noodle.

Same thing in real life. I can’t stand hearing the same news report told fifteen different ways during fifteen consecutive hours. Or the same commercials in my face. Phones ringing. Dogs constantly barking, barking, barking, barking, in the same manner. Or young kids (as truly adorable as they are) saying the same thing over and over and over and over and over and . . . you get the point. All of it gets insanely annoying.

Strangely, though, repetition doesn’t bother me in two very distinct ways: one is through music, and the other is through . . . well, I’ll touch upon that in a bit.

You see, humans are hardwired to perceive patterns. After all, it was essential to our survival, and music is a shared thing amongst human beings as a whole. Music speaks to all types of people on different emotional levels, therefore creating bonds between individuals and groups, which adds to the cement of our societal ways of thinking, doing, creating, living, and cooperating.

In other words: The more cohesive the society, the more “in collective tune,” the more apt the individuals in it will survive, thrive, and propagate.

See? Survival essentials.

Now, the other way repetition doesn’t bother me is through individual word emphasis.

Take this sentence, for example (compliments of my daughter): Sophie threw her brother off the cliff.

Writing it time and again –

Sofie threw her brother off the cliff
Sofie threw her brother off the cliff
Sofie threw her brother off the cliff
Sofie threw her brother off the cliff
Sofie threw her brother off the cliff

– all of it gets insanely annoying. Like phones ringing, or dogs constantly barking in the same manner, or young kids saying the same thing over and over and over and over and over and . . . you get the point.

But! . . . add emphasis on different words each time:

1) Sofie threw her brother off the cliff.
2) Sofie threw her brother off the cliff.
3) Sofie threw her brother off the cliff
4) Sofie threw her brother off the cliff
5) Sofie threw her brother off the cliff
6) Sofie threw her brother off the cliff
7) Sofie threw her brother off the cliff

. . . ahh . . . different emphasis on different words lend variety, even when repeated over and over and over and over and over and . . . you get the point.

Now, barring the fact that sadistic Sofie seems to really hate her brother:

First: it was Sofie, and no one else, who threw her brother off the cliff.
Second: Sofie threw, rather than kicked, shoved, bumped, knocked, or whatever other relevant verb, her brother off the cliff.
Third: it was Sofie’s brother, and no one else, whom Sofie threw off the cliff.
Fourth: it was Sofie’s brother, and not her sister, her uncle, her aunt, her mother, her father, etc., whom Sofie threw off the cliff.
Fifth: it was off the cliff Sofie threw her brother, not under the cliff, across the cliff, through the cliff, beside the cliff, etc.
Sixth: it was the cliff, one particular cliff, that Sofie threw her brother off.
Seventh: it was the cliff, and nothing but the cliff, that Sofie threw her brother off.

So yeah, I know this totally has nothing to do with archery, but it was fun to babble on about.

Hey, at least I didn’t repeat this post over and over and over and over and over and . . . you get the point. Because I’m sure all of it would get insanely annoying.