During my last year of college I wrote the same ten pages over and over again. Those ten pages became the first few pages of my first novel. I can still recite the opening paragraph from memory - only now I cringe when I do it because they are - surprise! - a classic example of overwriting, in addition to being a more than a little pretentious.

My father always said that too many words cheapened the value of a man's speech.

When a man is on the verge of passing out from pain, it seemed wrong to notice how beautiful he was.

Adam didn't approve of Wal-Mart.

Some people are boys longer than others.

I thought you were dead. Stupid. As if I'd die without taking you with me.

Mine, ... Mine is what she is.