YOU WANT PEPPERONI ON THAT PROSE?
The faintest whiff of an idea tickles your brain like the scent of a piping hot pizza wafting through the house. A good writing idea, like the sensuous smell of your favorite pizza toppings is your first inkling of the yummy goodness (literary and culinary) to come.
The genre – fiction or non, veggie or meat lovers? Sci-fi, urban fantasy, steampunk. Hawaiian, taco, supreme. So many choices. Something for every taste.
The structure – novel, essay, screenplay, blog – is the crust. You could slap down a boring old, store-bought, frozen crust and make it serviceable, but that’s not you. You, you’re a word chef. You gather the ingredients, knead the dough. Toss it, smack it (shamaladingdong?), pound it out until it’s just right. Circle or rectangle? That’s up to you, word chef.
The words and paragraphs and chapters form the sauce coating the crust. White sauce or red, choose carefully. The sauce is where the word pizza lives. A sweet sauce is a whole different experience than one with a little more tang.
And now: the toppings. Every pepperoni slice is a new character. Sausage is the setting. Green peppers, black olives, the busy verbs. Mushrooms are the adjectives. Anchovies are like adverbs. Who needs ’em?
Once your pizza prose is assembled, slide it into the oven. The oven is the agent/editor/publisher. It gives you the finished product you crave. The book. The story. The ‘za.
Word pizza comes out piping hot – hot off the presses. Cut it and plate it. Package the book for sale, put the blog post up, release the essay. It’s out there.
A chorus of “nom nom nom – yummy!” or “Bloarugghhhh!” equals the critics’ reactions as they bite into the meal you’ve prepared.
The word chef’s job is complete. On to the next idea meal.