Lighten up? What does that mean?

I've decided to lighten up.  On several levels.  And I'm starting with words.
I tend to write the way I live.  Or do I live the way I write?  Most days, my life reads like an out-of-print book, its age-cracked spine reluctantly and infrequently snapping open to let the world peek inside. My writing group has coined me "The Metaphor Queen," while my frustrated but tolerant friends often say things like: "Stop hiding behind pretty words and just say 'it,' already."  And my writing mentor, a woman whose monthly feedback I simultaneously long for (because she is a brilliant writer and an insightful reader) and dread (because she is a brilliant writer and an insightful reader), has recently challenged me to just "go into the writing and say what you mean."

As much as I love indulging in my out-of-print life, its age-cracked spine reluctantly and infrequently snapping open to let the world peek inside, I have decided to lighten up. I am putting my language on a diet.  I am practicing word economy.  I am switching to language lite.  Clearly, I am making no promises to eliminate the highly undervalued short sentence, however.  In fact, in the absence of metaphor binges, the fragment may become my new addiction.  But for now, I am focused on saying what I mean, without the safety net of abstraction and layers of comparison to cushion or distract.

This month, my mentor has asked me to edit my previous submission (instead of submitting new work).  Her suggestions include stripping away extra words, uncovering and exposing the truth beneath the symbolism, and getting rid of all my "purple prose" (Aside: Stick a pin in "purple prose," because I love that phrase and plan to revisit it.) 

So - step one of Lighten Up begins tonight: Two hours of revision, Enya in the background, and an open window to let the fresh air blow in while the metaphors fly out.  I feel lighter just thinking about it.