I believe in leavening. You can't have words sticking out too much, like promontories. They disturb the density. You have to flatten them, or raise the surrounding terrain.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
Words in a person's word stock are like paints on a palette. It helps to have just the right shade when you need it.
If words are doing their job, then their novelty will not be the most noticeable thing about them.
I put the words down and push them a bit.
If words don't have vibration behind them, and a real feeling behind them, then they're just words.
Words are also seeds, and when dropped into the invisible spiritual substance, they grow and bring forth after their kind.
The sterile, arid environment created by truly jarring and discordant signage and gargantuan billboards is a turnoff.
My writing tends to become very dense, so I have to keep some cushion. Sometimes, words that seem superfluous are actually essential for the overall effect.
It's no longer possible to simply build English country houses out of words, because they've already been so thoroughly described that all the applicable words have been used up, and one is forced to build them instead out of words recycled and scavenged from other descriptions of other country houses.
I don't think you can bury words. I think the more you try to dismiss them, the more power you give to them, the more circulation they have.
Words are like untying a corset - you can move into this great space with them.