More about lipograms at the end. In the meantime, here’s a great one by Steve Chrisomalis:
“Looking at this paragraph with confusion? I’ll aid you slightly. Is any odd gap, lacuna or omission obvious to you? Got it now? No?
That’s right – this is a lipogram – a book, paragraph or similar thing in writing that lacks a symbol, particularly (but not always) that symbol fifth in rank out of our 26 script-signs (found amidst ‘d’ and ‘f’), which stands for a sound such as that in ‘kiwi’. I won’t bring it up right now, to avoid spoiling it. I could play with lipograms morning, noon and night. So it is with joy that I submit to you this location – truly, a loquacious location – for lipogram fanatics to join as a unit to glorify this form of wordplay.
As far as I know, this location has a distinct honour: it contains such an abundant quantity of words without using this taboo glyph that no WWW location can outmatch it. As of right now, it contains a thousand and a half words, and past, without any hint of that symbol. Naturally, many long lipograms abound in print, including books, rhyming stanzas, and similar works of fiction. Most notably, La Disparition (A Void) by a famous author of a writing group known as Oulipo, stands out as a paragon of lipogrammaticity. I cannot aim to surpass it, but as a fan, I can look upon it with admiration.
Writing lipograms is, as you might think, a difficult task. In my lingo, 2/3 of all words contain that symbol which I am now avoiding, including many common pronouns and similar words commonly found in writing. Without using abbrvs., slang and odd jargon, which most purists scorn as cop-outs, it’s darn tough to impart information in a stylistically satisfying way. Stripping paragraphs of particular symbols has a way of making looking at lipograms jarring. No doubt about it, a lipogram is a particularly arduous form of wordplay.
Having said this, acquiring a knack for lipogram composition isn’t that hard, and may assist you in your non-lipogrammatic writing. Not to say that I’m without aid in this activity; my dictionary is always handy, as is a book with synonyms for words. And, notwithstanding any drawbacks flowing from passing many an hour looking for unusual ways to say ordinary things, it might aid your socialization skills. Chicks truly dig lipogrammatists, or so my old lady says.
Sadly, a handful of critics find lipograms ridiculous, ugly or without worth (as fiction or as wordplay). To such sorry saps, I say only that in constraining your thoughts and writing in a particular way aids in promoting branching paths of thought, thus amplifying vocabulary and instilling adroit linguistic skills among both young and old. By putting into praxis ways of thinking that wouldn’t occur normally, lipograms call for authors to look at writing as an activity in ways that, frankly, wouldn’t occur to such niggling adjudicators of linguistic conduct.”
A “lipogram”, as you’ve guessed by now, is composed from words chosen to omit one or more letters. “Lipogram” comes from the Greek word “lipográmmatos”, which simply means “missing a letter”. Short ones are not that difficult, but I think you have to be a fanatic to go on at the length Chrisomalis does (his original is much longer, by the way).