Death scenes can be tricky to write, particularly for primary characters. Do too little, and it can feel jarringly abrupt, not allowing the reader (or watcher) to properly absorb within the moment that the character has legitimately just met his end.
Do too much, on the other hand, and you may end up with something like this:
(…all right, I may have just wanted an excuse to post that video)
Something like a dragon blowing smoke out his nose, eh? It was extremely clear in person, but I couldn’t get a very good photograph without optical zoom. I fiddled with the contrast and tried to enhance the details as best I could.
Here’s another from his side, several miles away. Look closely and you can make out his neck, horns, eyes, and snout:
Dragon in the cloud,
Are you proud?
Are you cowed?
Would you deign to flutter down
And say “hi”?
Dragon in the sky,
Tell me why
Do you cry
When the wind begins to blow
Way up there.
Dragon in the air,
Do you care
If I stare?
For I must admit I’m struck
By your gleam.
Dragon wrought of steam,
I must deem
You a dream,
As I know I’ll never see
Epanalepsis is the repetition of a sentence’s (or occasionally clause’s) first word or phrase at its end. Used for a particular sort of poetic emphasis, it can sound pretty awkward if not done carefully.
Wretched is the slog, for its intentions are wretched.
You must be wary of the slog‘s embrace; it is cruel yet inviting, and of its allure you must be wary.
I often find myself reading five or so books at a time. I don’t necessarily like to…it just happens.
I don’t use bookmarks. I just remember what page I left off on.
I suppose I appreciate the idea of dust jackets (fancy graphic cover AND classy textured actual cover), but in practice I also kind of hate them. I try to leave them on when reading, since I don’t like having to find somewhere to put them, but they’re just…slippery and annoying. I’d prefer all hardbacks be print-on casebound.
I take care to preserve not only the spine, but also the page edges. I can’t stand the green streaks that manifest toward the middle from prolonged holding (mainly an issue with the cheaper acid paper used in mass market paperbacks).
I hate writing in books, even if they’re workbooks or madlibs or what-have-you meant for writing in.
My eyes will sometimes jump to the middle or bottom of a page to spite me (particularly in interesting passages). When this gets particularly bad, I’ll put a hand over the lower part of the page to prevent myself from reading ahead.
A book has to be really, really awful or boring for me to actively give up on it once I’ve committed to reading it. But I tend to have a longer attention span than most (ironically enough, considering the first point), and am more willing to force myself to seek the merit in things.
Anyone else up for confessing your own? (>^-‘)>
*Does that sound like someone who beats books with a stick?
Polysemy is the semantic relation among identical words of affiliated or derived meaning. A polyseme can be as simple as a word with multiple similar contexts (mattress pad / paw pad / mouse pad), but they are more interesting and useful when they cross part-of-speech borders. If we say “He will bat the bat with a bat,” bat (swat) and bat (baseball) are polysemes, whereas they are merely homonyms with bat (animal).
The slog makes you slog through your creative endeavors.