Some people have come to question my use of "twinky" to describe writing so I think a quick lesson on twinky writing is in order. Read the following three examples carefully, and make sure never to pen a book along such lines.

Joe saw the men with guns coming for him. He looked around to find an escape rout, but found none. Then it's going to be them against me, he thought to himself and smiled. He always liked a challenge. It didn't matter to him that the guys coming after him were trained professionals from the Russian KGB. He was Joe, double-oh-trouble and they were going to get some of him.

The steam from the vent pipes were making it hard to see. Joe wondered why things like this always had to happen in old abandoned warehouses. He took off his shirt to try to blend in with the damp, slightly shinny look of the walls and pipes around him. Sweat glistened across his chest. Joe looked down at his muscles and couldn't help but flex. His $500 a month membership at the gym was finally paying off.

The shouting pulled him back to reality. He needed a weapon, and fast. This being a warehouse, it wasn't hard to find a long pipe with just the right length and thickness to bash someones brains in. Joe held his pipe lightly in one hand while hauling himself up a slippery ladder to a small catwalk running above the huge doughnut shaped particle accelerator that the Russians had tried so hard to hide from the Americans. They would never see it coming.

Man, that was some twinky writing. It was painful to even write. But that's only one genre of twinky writing. Here's some twinky fantasy.

Hirgman looked across the field of orcs, ogres, ghastly bat-like creatures and giants with a grim expression. The dragon riders were late and the armies of the High King were going to pay for it. He shouted for his sword to be brought to him and then strapped it deftly on to his side. He was Hirgman, the enchanter, he though bitterly. Hirgman the enchanter who was supposed to be strong enough to save the armies of the High King from total obliteration. But he couldn't. He knew that and Uzugul knew that. Curse Uzugul! That scheming, snake of a traitor was now commanding the armies of the Underworld. He knew their every secret, every weakness, every strategy. Blood was going to be spilt this day, and lots of it.

That tired me out. It's harder to write twinky fantasy than I thought. How do some people pull it off so well? I'm in awe of them.

But the genre that wins the prize for its twinkiness is romance--not that I've ever read romance, but you can just tell from the book covers.

Gabriella looked into the deep brown eyes of the man of her dreams and whispered, "I will always love you." And then fainted.

And that's all I need to write about that. So as you can see, twinky is definitely a suitable, fitting and appropriate word to describe poor writing.

Any questions?