twosmallmonsters

Last January I struggled with a brief period of sleeplessness. In attempt to find respite and neutrality, I escaped to Elizabeth's cozy apartment. Her boyfriend's chicken noodle soup ended my three day inability to eat and I was positive curling up on Elizabeth's couch would put me right to sleep. Before she packed up for bed she glanced over at the stack of books I had collected from her shelves.
"Jenny, you realize those are my student's text books, right? You are reading text books before bed. For fun." Elements of Style, Style, What is a pronoun 101. . .
"Of course I realize that," I replied, an answer usually reserved for teenage children when their parent's point out they are wearing two different colored socks. She laughed to herself and crawled into bed. That evening I stayed awake reading style and poetry. Since that evening I have been obsessed with Style: Ten Lessons in Clarity and Grace by Josephy Williams.
Over the last week, my master's project, Using Modified Analytic Induction to Explore Family Interaction Patterns for Families with Alzheimer's, has amounted to a blossoming 45 pages of unedited word vomit. I am very proud of this and have celebrated accordingly. Yet I fear the revision- and revision -and revision. Sunday morning I forged ahead to the Barnes and Noble. The shabby first edition of Style from the library will not suffice for the long haul we have to endure together. I even bought a bunch of bananas to sustain the energy needed. It will be a long four weeks until I hopefully will defend my project. Tonight I am curling back up with my manual for another engaging hour of style.

Fourth edition:
My Monsters
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