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So it was too, the other night on a series I watch. I’ve really tried to avoid posting anything too contentious. Not just because of a lack of desire to get in a scrammy with a series, indeed, a dog lover here. Hey, I know it may not count, but who held the hamster’s paw when it was dying, long after assuring the younger, weeping-on-my- shoulders daughter, when the then-bitterly-complaining other half rescued her, it, and not a lot else, from a gone-wrong relationship….I see or smell it and it’s out. 

But also…hey, when it comes to criticism, I think, who am I? Apart from a bit of dust on my own horizon. We are talking mega big bucks drama series here.

I really don’t think it was the dog’s dying that did it. I mean, like I say, people get attached to animals.  Sometimes people even get attached to humans. Maybe I did use hamster bait that day, to coax my younger girl home…. You  (sob, sob, sob)  and Dad,  (sob some more) will never allow it, (slaver downthe phone)  Of course I will sweetheart…….  Sly was such a character in his own right, he’s still on the heart now.  I think it was the egging of the pudding.

Straight up now, I don’t think men crying is unsexy. But if they keep blubbing it….and blubbing it….and then blubbing it some more, to his younger – you guessed it –  blubbing brother now…  same as a woman blubbing and blubbing it, well, I can’t help thinking, can we move along a little, please. Get to the end of the paper handkerchiefs for the love and sake of…well everyone here involved and before you rival Orca in the killer blubber stakes. Thank you

And then, I’m sorry I will switch the channel. I might as well tell you. I will even remove said drama from my Facebook likes page. Because let’s face it I am fussy about my puddings and how they are egged.  That amount of egging and I’d rather watch Gordon Ramsay. At least he swears to break the monotony.

And here was me thinking till I read Oscar Wilde I was the only pseron in the world – a bad one at that – for finding the death of little Nell hysterical.

Too much emotion in writing is as bad as too little. Let’s face it, we all carry crosses. We don’t need to be battered senseless with them, and have them hammering our knees into the ground, for them to resound.  The human spirit is nothing, if not resilient. And it’s not stupid either.  How many eggs are you going to break? How many eggs do you need to?

If your character has cancer, do they really need to have lost the four kids in the car crash?  Oh…and have their face reconstructed by a mugger, who killed their better half ? Well, they can but can you make that an enlightening experience for us as readers? Or are you just going to smack us into the ground?

If your character doesn’t, but the dog has – unfortunately, for us humble viewers  – just breathed its last, can you just set up the scene, lay out the situation, and let the reader feel that for themselves, without using so many eggs, hey we’re choking on  the souffle?

Remember, we’ve all stood round the death of little Nell?

Do we really want to be splitting our sides about it?