No comments on the covers, but having never read Lorette Chase and hearing your gushing, I’m going to get me some! By whatever means necessary:)

Categories: Random Musings • The Link-O-Lator
Tags: This entry has not been tagged yet.
Beth has some words to say about how writing and reading are personal, and how talking about the books you’ve read is necessarily a process that involves the personal.
I’m le crunched for time (between work and helping my best friend move, I haven’t had much computer time lately), and I have some muddled thoughts about this that I’ll set down when I have a moment, but in the meanwhile, talk amongst yourselves in the comments, whydontcha?
I thought that post was well-written, and I can’t wait to read Candy’s thoughts on it all.
I agree, reactions to books are very personal and sometimes pretty visceral. But I think it’s important to have an outlet for those reactions, and to not have to censor yourself. I can remember a minor kerfluffle on my live journal some time back (back when I actually wrote in the damn thing) over the fact that one of my readers was shocked! Shocked I tell you! that I wasn’t a Laurell K. Hamilton fangirl. She was something of a close acquaintance at that time, but I remember feeling annoyed and even a little betrayed that she quit speaking to me over the fact that I didn’t like one of her favorites.
What an excellent post. I’m so tired of this viewpoint that reviews should be nice or not there at all.
Very interesting. I agree that reading is personal—I review books on my LJ, though not nearly to the extent that you ladies do. Mine are just a few paragraphs of plot summary and whether I recommend it or not. It’s mostly a project to see how many books I can read in one year, so of course it’s inherently personal.
My reviews are generally positive for one reason: I don’t finish books that I’m not enjoying. Most of my books lately come to the library and I have a TBR stack two feet tall. Plus I have very little patience.
Of course, when I do dare to post a negative review, sometimes I get burned for it. I never attack a writer—I’m not there for someone’s personal life, plus as a writer I’m paranoid that it would come back to bite me in the ass, but I think the text itself is fair game.
I’ve been anonymously called a smug bitch for a negative review. (I was so excited.) The worst, though, was when an author replied to my review and took offense to the terms I used to describe her book. I have a real problem with that. I know the internet opens lines of communication etc etc but I don’t think this person would have emailed the reviewer from Publisher’s Weekly or the NYT Review of books to make a one off crappy comment. I don’t know what she wanted—an apology? For me to retract my review? For me to know she was watching? I don’t think she was trying to open a dialogue. I chose to ignore it.
What I think I mean, after wandering around on this tangent, is that of course reading and reviewing are personal. But they’re personal to the reader and not to the author. I know how it feels when someone scalps your baby—I’m going to read some of my WIP to my RWA chapter tonight and I’m expecting a bloodbath—but as long as I don’t call someone an assbag offense shouldn’t be taken, in my opinion.
Wow, I didn’t know how strongly I felt about all that.
(word verification: part69. heh.)
I know the internet opens lines of communication etc etc but I don’t think this person would have emailed the reviewer from Publisher’s Weekly or the NYT Review of books to make a one off crappy comment.
This is such an excellent point, Eliza, one I’ve thought several times but never articulated as well as you have.
When writers start calling reviewers names and arguing with them, they’re being incredibly disrespectful. They’re implying that a reader isn’t qualified or smart or good enough to judge their work. That they have no right to do so, or to comment on it.
When the readers’ opinions are the ones that really count.
Is what your reading saying something about who you are? Are the folks on the bus or train looking at the cover of your Super Trashy Romance Anthologypalooza and judging you in a negative way or are they asking you where you got it?
I was once aquainted with a woman who, when I told her what I was reading that week said, “Oh wow, I thought you were one of those really intelligent girls!” Oooooo-kay.
You are what you eat? We all know, that’s bollacks within the contex of this discussion, but do you ever feel the need to defend your self to others who are, shall we say, complete assholes?
You are what you eat? We all know, that’s bollacks within the contex of this discussion,
but do you ever feel the need to defend your self to others who are, shall we say,
complete assholes?
Sometimes. Last week the subject of reading came up at the battered women’s shelter I volunteer at, I forget how. Anyway, one of the women asked me what I read, and I said something like, “Lately I’ve been reading a lot of trashy romance.” I remember thinking at the time that this woman probably wasn’t going to appreciate my saying that since she’d so recently come from a less than ideal relationship setting. She just sighed and said, “Girl, I can’t read those because I know life’s not like that.”
So, I guess, no, that woman didn’t make me feel like an asshole. But that whole conversation in that particular context still makes me very sad for her that the fantasy of perfect love has so obviously been ruined for her.
“Girl, I can’t read those because I know life’s not like that.”
That’s exactly why I read those. Maybe I’ll never get that fairytale happily ever after, but I like reading about. It makes the real world feel kinder and gentler for the time I’m lost in that book.
I review a lot of different kinds of books. And no matter what I think, love it or hate it… I never, EVER bring an author’s personal life or personality into it. I think that’s just incredibly rude.
I recently read the final installment in a fantasy series by an author that I have lurved for years. This series? Not so much. So very disappointing. And I said so in my review, and gave specific examples of why. It wasn’t personal at all. Simply commenting on the writing style. (I haven’t heard from this author, and honestly don’t expect to, either.)
The only time I’ve ever been attacked by an author was by a ‘big name’ in her genre. In a very positive review, several years ago, I made a comparison between political events in her historical and current events. This woman was incredibly pissed. First, she accused me of not reading the book. (I still don’t get that one. What sense does that make?? How could I compare if I hadn’t read the thing?) I politely assured her that I had. Then, she accused me of plagarizing some other review that included much the same comparison. (I hadn’t read it, but it was from Publisher’s Weekly, and she couldn’t very well attack them, so she flamed me about it.) When I suggested that we simply agree to disagree, she sent two more ulgy and personal emails, laboriously pointing out how I was wrong-wrong-wrong and she was so very right. She also opined that I must be a sad and uneducated individual. And that she’d make sure I never got another one of her books to review again. At that point, a pretty empty threat, because I had zero desire to do anything to help her again. You know, like write a review. And remember, this was a *positive* review. Her beef was my mentioning that terrorists have always existed.
I ended up forwarding all her crappy emails to her publicist and pointing out that I’m but one little fish in the reviewing sea… but if the author is making a habit of this kind of nasty email, she’s going to find herself without reviews pretty quickly. The publicist apologized profusely, promised to deal with the author, and I still get every. single. book. this woman writes. Due to her crap-itde, however, I no longer review them. I don’t think I’d be objective. I don’t even read them. Which is sad, because I used to like them.
My point, I guess, is that getting too personal in a reviewer-writer context can lead to a lot of unpleasantness, depending on the personalities involved. That’s why I much prefer to review objectively, based on the merits (or lack thereof) of each book. Not based on the author, personally.
She just sighed and said, “Girl, I can’t read those because I know life’s not like that.” ... But that whole conversation in that particular context still makes me very sad for her that the fantasy of perfect love has so obviously been ruined for her.
I’m still thinking about this.
Perhaps this woman just has a fantasy of having a love that’s not quite so “perfect” & thus differs from the most widely presented Romance novel fantasy.
Or maybe she’s rejecting some of the other conventions offered by Romance novels. There are a few that I don’t care for, myself. One of them would be the pervasive idea that, in order to have a perfect love, a heroine must ***deserve*** it, by living an exemplary life & loving kittens & being kind to plants & not being slutty or aggressive. It really bugs me that most of the heroines who get that perfect love are beautiful, young, virginal, often passive white girls. Not all of them, of course, but you gotta admit, that describes an awful lot of them.
Times are changing to some degree. Readers are making it known that they are tired of the passive virgin with the Magic Hoo-hoo. I don’t write about virgins, myself. All my heroines are experienced women, to varying degrees, who know what they want and they’re not looking for a man to complete them, although the sex and company is nice.
I don’t reveiw books for this very reason. I have very specific tastes when it comes to my reading pleasures and so few writers fill the bill. (and actually, it seems so few readers share my, er, appetites)
I can on the other hand critique the bejesus out of a story. I can do it objectively and concisely. I can critique almost any genre except inspirationals (read a few where God makes up the third in a love triangle ... kinda squicks me out). I can do it because (like Beth) I WANT the story to live up to its full potential.
I don’t have to like the story, the genre, even the characters in order to critique it. All I have to look for is, is it well written, are the characters/ization believable, does the story flow/lag?
Maybe folk should critique instead of review? Meh, doesn’t really make a difference to me. I don’t pay attention to reviews when it comes to buying books.
X
Thanks for the link, I now have two more cool blogs to visit.
I do reviews on my blog, amazon, and review boards specific to certain topics, only on things I like. Just as Eva does, if I’m not into a book, I don’t finish it. If I do finish something that isn’t so great (by accident), I won’t spend more time on something that already wasted my time by doing a review. If, however, someone asks me, I’ll let them know what I think.
Many times I believe I don’t like something because of my taste. I’m peculiar, driven, inflexible, and demanding when I read, and I like what I like. I can spot good writing, but a failure to entertain may be more bad chosing on my part than author fault.
However, I have read some DAWGS. Romantic Supense has sucked ass for the most part from 05 and 06. I’m so careful now about what I buy in that genre becuase of cartloads of crap, good to chapter three and then gone with the wind (and not the good wind either). I do prefer honest review, but I think you can be honest, and not necessarily hurtful or mean spirited. As a writer aspiring to publication, I know I’ll get torched at some point. I also know readers have a right to opine, so I’ll suck it up. I’ve had criticism before, I’ll get it again. It burns me when writers get holier than thou, or start to believe their own press, and gang up on readers if the reader posts an opinion that is not PC, or not to the writer’s liking. I’ve observed a few internet lynchings lead by mid-list authors and their sycophants, and it’s not been pretty. I’ve since added each of those authors to my ‘do not buy’ list. Money talks. Louder than angry writers, sometimes. I’m glad to see that there are other passionate readers out there, though. I just completed a 5K pages marathon for August, and only had a few bad reads. Of all, I found four excellent books. That’s better than I’ve done all year.
I think writers owe it to readers to listen to what they’re saying, once they build a fanbase. Take LKH for instance. I’ve come late to this woman’s books, just this weekend, but she mustered a lot of support with her early stuff, which I understand is great. So if these readers were smart enough to glom onto her work in the first place, why aren’t they smart enough to recognize where she took a wrong turn? She should really be listening to these fans more closely.
It’s a hard one. As a reader I get annoyed when my favorite writer goes off the rails but as a writer I go cold at the idea of paying so much attention to my readers wants (not that they exist!) I start limiting my creativity. That sounds pretentious doesn’t it? But I can’t see myself ever writing only for readers. I have to be able to write for myself or I’d never do it (which might not be such a bad thing!) I guess that means writers have to put up with bad reviews if people don’t like where their imagination takes them. I do know that replying to people who give bad reviews is a total waste of time. Every writer I’ve seen do this comes out of it looking like an idiot.
Candy. . . . . . where are you, Candy?
Okay, undoubtedly I will have more to say when you finally post about this, but it’s definitely an interesting topic, isn’t it?
Sure reading is personal; why would any of us spend so much time doing something that didn’t have personal significance and didn’t reach us at some fundamentally personal level? And I also agree that talking about books is an incredibly personal activity, for some of the very reasons Beth pointed out about the nature of communication between reader and author/book.
When I think about this, though, what immediately springs to mind is the way that so few postitive commetaries on books (I’ll use this word instead of review, which some people don’t believe pertains to them) communicate to me the same kind of passion that disappointed or angry rants seem to. In fact, one of the things that has always disappointed me about such book-talk is how uninspired and uninspiring book recommendations and reviews often are to me. I’m often more motivated to go and buy a book based on a negative review than I am based on a positive one, in part because negative reviews often communicate more about the book to me. Sometimes rave reviews are passionate, but they consist largely of phrases like “THIS IS THE BEST BOOK EVAH!,” and I find it sort of sad that we tend to find it easier to rip a book apart than to communicate with the same clarity and passion all the things that worked for us and made a book worth reading.
As for the issue of being “nice” or “mean,” I don’t think either is inherently less or more honest. I’m a little unsettled by the fact that there seems to be this equation of mean with honest, because to me, anyway, mean is more often than not just mean (or, like, displaced anger). And I’m not a person who is particularly into mean; very honestly, I’ve never seen its advantages beyond the immediate and short-lived gratification of catharsis. And when people are consistently or unapologetically mean about books, I start wondering what else must be going on with them, because to be mean over books, especially fiction? I don’t know—I so get the angry disappointment thing, but I can count the books that brought me to that point on MAYBE both hands.
As for what people “should” do or should call themselves on their own websites, that, IMO, is entirely up to them. I think it’s a mistake, however, to believe that a review, commentary, recommendation, rant, or whatever that seems more restrained or formal isn’t personal; I’ve read some incredibly compelling and vibrant commentary that is delivered with bone dry irony or sarcasm. Sherryfair, who posts here periodically, has a great talent for wry commentary that reflects a passionate perspective saran-wrapped by a dry wit. To me, anyway, it’s all about people finding the style that suits them best and running with that. Some people will be more recognizably personal and some won’t. Some personal voices will be more effective than others, and any give voice with which we have rapport will vary with each of us, as well.
I pick and choose among the online voices whose opinions I especially respect and/or trust, and I don’t necessarily have to love the online persona of some folks whose blogs I find interesting for various reasons. There is such a wide range of voices emerging in blogland, that I’m definitely thinking that there’s something out there for almost everyone. Perhaps the more diversity there is, the less cliquishness? (I can dream, can’t I?)
For me this whole issue arose out of an ongoing discussion I’ve been having with Sara Donati/Rosina Lippi, and I have to say that I’ve been taken aback at a few of the comments made about her lately. I obviously don’t agree with a number of her views, but the fact that she is willing to consider what I’m saying, that she’s thoughtfully and considerately responding to me, that she’s open to changing her mind, that she’s not just trying to shut me up or disagreeing with everything I say because she doesn’t want to deal with it or whatever—all of that inclines me toward respecting her even when I disagree with her or don’t like something she said. I think, for example, that both she and Dear Author represent valuable voices in this online community, even when they are in opposition or conflict with one another. Candy and Sarah are open and thoughtful here, too, which is one of the reasons I think so many posts pile up on these topics.
None of us are perfect; sometimes we’re all going to do asshole things. But as someone who is in complete agreement that reading and talking about books are both very personal endeavors, I am equally convinced that one doesn’t have to be mean or engage in personal assaults to be a passionate reader and/or blogger. If mean works for someone, then that’s obviously their choice and their voice, but IMO it doesn’t necessarily equate to less bullshit or more honesty. And IMO it’s not about being fakey “nice” or “polite,” either; it’s simply about starting from the premise that writing a shitty book (or blog post or whatever) isn’t definitive proof that someone is a shitty person. And about recognizing that there can be a world of difference between a caustic voice and a belittling one.
I think there’s a big difference between honesty and just ripping on a book out of pure spite. I’ve certainly read reviews online where the reader appeared to have a personal bone to pick with the author, but it just lessened his / her credence, at least so far as I’m concerned. There’s a vast difference between saying the heroine was TSTL and the author was TSTL for having written it.
If you write, then it’s inevitable you’re going to write something someone doesn’t like or that they think is stupid. You may also find your own definitions changing over time. For instance, about five years ago, I wrote a historical romance (the first of a planned trilogy) where there was a virgin widow. (I know!) Nowadays, this is the last thing I’d do because it’s such a throbbing, purple-headed cliche, but I’m not about to go back and change it. That would tear the heart out of the story. I just will never use that particular convention again.
Writing may be personal for the author, and reading may be personal to the reader, but there is no personal relationship, or personal obligation, between the two.
What I find interesting about some (just some!) bloggers’ positions is their sense of entitlement, that there IS some personal duty that a writer owes a specific reader. I’m not talking about merely not liking something and saying it, I’m talking about readers who get angry, bitchy, and feel betrayed if a book isn’t exactly what they like. Readers who think a writer OWES them PERSONALLY the exact book they want. Beth talks about “allowing” writers to speak to her, and being angry if it doesn’t meet her approval, and I think it was a blogger called Indiri who wrote the “write, bitches, write” screed that basically said writers were nothing more than her personal word slaves. I don’t agree with their views on a writer’s responsibility to them at all.
A writer’s responsibility is to write the best book she can, period. I don’t get where that translates for some readers into her, personally, deserving exactly what she wants. When a reader buys a book, she knowingly, willingly, and voluntarily buys what that writer has already put out. And the reader knows there is a risk she won’t like it. Where did this idea come from that a single reader DESERVES to have every book she reads contain everything she personally likes, leaving out everything she finds personally dislikes? The goal is to match up writers with readers who happen to like what they’ve written, not to have writers give every single, specific reader exactly what she personally wants.
I know some people like to point out the whole money issue – how readers pay the writer’s salary, etc. But approaching it that way still doesn’t mean that any one, single reader deserves anything. The money approach only mean the MASS of readers get what they want. And if the mass of readers like virgin widows or bad clichés or whatever else, then everyone else is SOL.
The only way I think this sometimes bitchy sense of entitlement and angry betrayal would be relevant is if a reader commissioned a work for her exclusive and personal enjoyment. Then a reader would be justified in being nasty if it wasn’t exactly what she wanted. Otherwise, a writer puts out work she likes, and a reader can choose to buy it or not. If the reader buys it and doesn’t like it, fine, but that isn’t some personal betrayal or breech of duty the writer owed to that specific reader.
I have been plenty disappointed in books and authors, and I’ve even vented about it here. As stated previously, it’s not that I don’t think readers have a right to their opinion (and to state it) I just think some (some, not all!) people cross the line when they rather viciously and personally attack an author because they feel the author owes them some personal duty. And I think some (again, not all) readers confuse “this is not to my personal taste,” with, “this is an empirically bad book unworthy of publication.” If a book really is just bad, it should be easy enough to point out why without getting all nasty about it. And if bloggers do get nasty, then they’ve created an “anything goes” environment, and shouldn’t be surprised if writers get nasty back. (Again, this isn’t to imply that there aren’t writers who have just gone off the rails unprovoked).
Writing may be personal for the author, and reading may be personal to the reader, but there is no personal relationship, or personal obligation, between the two.
Thank you for saying this; I was trying to cobble this idea together in my mind but couldn’t do it as cleanly and cogently as you did.
There is no personal relationship, or personal obligation, between the two.
I’ve said something about this on another post, but the place I feel like there is some obligation is when a writer builds up a fanbase writing romance, and then once this author gets on the auto-buy list for romance fans, they then shift genre entirely, writing touchy-feeling relationship books about families and bonds between women, mother-daughter sagas and there’s nary a boobie touch to be found.
My gripe is this: they built up a fanbase writing wromance… why? Because they thought it would be the easiest genre to break into? Don’t they like writing romance? If we were fans of mother-sister touchy-feeling relationship books, we would be buying those already. When this happens, I feel like the writer has pulled a bait and switch. Authors getting tired of writing something is different, but I rather think that pen names serve a purpose in this regard because it gives the reader a “heads’ up, there’s no boobie touching in this.” If they still like the writer well enough to follow her across genres, that’s fine. As for me, I read sci-fi, fantasy, romance, and very little mystery (like ONLY James Lee Burke). Anything else, I’m not buying and I don’t care who it’s by.
Thanks, Robin and Liv. You articulated perfectly what my long-winded example did not. That while writing and reading are inherently personal, the process of rendering an opinion (review, commentary, rant, whatever form it takes) shouldn’t be.
I mentioned earlier that an author for whom I have much lurve disappointed me with the last series. I said so in my review, and indicated why. And that’s pretty much that. It has nothing to do with the writer personally. It certainly has nothing to do with my feeling ‘betrayed’ by not getting precisely what I wanted. It just wasn’t quite up to snuff.
Caveat: I don’t have to pay for the books I review. I think that automatically sets up a sort of arm’s length ‘professional’ relationship with the author/publisher. When I point out a perceived flaw, or something that didn’t work for me, it’s not out of spite or feeling angry that I ‘wasted’ my money on a book.
I understand that this is an issue for many readers who discuss books. But even then, I just don’t see the point in getting all personal.
But even then, I just don’t see the point in getting all personal.
I think all of our views on books and reading are inherently, inescapably, and necessarily personal. The question for me is, can we or should we blame the author for that personal reaction?
Actually, I’ve seen some pretty funny commentary from readers who have been disappointed by the direction an author has taken in a series or a book. As long as a reader understands that the author isn’t responsible for that disappointment, that the author doesn’t owe the reader a particular reading experience, I don’t have a problem with a reader expressing her frustration with the direction a series or a book has taken. I’ve learned from these types of reviews and enjoyed a number of them, as well. It’s especially great, IMO, when they open up lots of conversation about a particular book or series of books.
I haven’t read that many series, but there’s one in particular that I’ve noticed some character continuity issues with. So it’s not that I’m disappointed in the way the series has gone, but rather taken aback by an apparent abandoning of logical character development over the course of a number of books.
I don’t think one approach to a series is inherently better than the other. I DO think there are ways to talk about books that call on certain objective standards of critique (clarity and correctness of prose, character and plot consistency, etc.) and that there are more subjective standards (response to an author’s style or sense of investment in the characters, for example). Most commentary on books cnotains a mixture of the two and IMO that’s a good thing.
Really, what I wish most, is that as readers we were as memorable in our positive reviews of certain books than we are in our negative ones. I mean, really, which do you remember more? Which do we talk about more?
I forgot, Deb, to say that I think sending the emails you got from one author to her publicist was an absolutely BRILLIANT idea! Who better to handle that kind of situation than the person in charge of an author’s public image? Great, great idea.
I recently posted a letter I wrote to Avon on the AAR board, lamenting the fact that no one had responded (it was one of those long, rambling ‘don’t underestimate historical readers’ missives). Julia Quinn generously forwarded it to the right person at Avon, but when that person got back to me, either she hadn’t read my letter or she misunderstood, because she was under the impression that I wanted to submit an MS and was letting me know that she’d get me the submission guidlines PDQ (which she did, via an editorial asst)! I still haven’t responded to her, because I don’t know what to say—gee thanks, I’m sure everyone and their sister wants to be a Romance author for Avon, except me, who just wants to submit a stupid letter? Hey, maybe I just wrote my response?!
Sherryfair, who posts here periodically, has a great talent for wry commentary that reflects a passionate perspective saran-wrapped by a dry wit.
Oh, Robin. Mwah! Mwah!*
(Robin has perhaps forgiven me for not loving “The Windflower” as much as she does?)
Robin L. writes the way I’d write if ... I were better at abstract reasoning & if I had earned a Ph.d. in critical theory & if I were a fierce advocate of social justice rather than just thinking it’s a swell idea & if I were totally fearless in my online posting. (That is, if I were her, rather than indelibly me.)
*The sound of socialite air kisses.
I enjoy reading Sherryfair’s posts more because they don’t leave me thinking, Fire bad, tree pretty. If Robin were a man and vocabularies were penises, she would be hung like a donkey.
If Robin were a man and vocabularies were penises, she would be hung like a donkey.
Are donkeys hung? If you’re going for big in your comparison, I think I’d rather be a stallion. I don’t know much about donkey parts, though.
Hee. Stallion it is then. I actually couldn’t give an accurate comparison between them. I’m not even a farm girl.
Oh, Robin, your vocabulary is surely hung like a Percheron stallion.
No, a Shire. The really big one with the feathered legs.
[It is impossible for me to post coherently because the song “Sexy Back” has taken over my mind & keeps replaying incessantly. Heard it while driving to work this morning & it just won’t go away.
Get your sexy on.]
I feel for you, Sherryfair. London Bridge put me in similar straits fairly recently.
[It is impossible for me to post coherently because the song “Sexy Back” has taken over my mind & keeps replaying incessantly. Heard it while driving to work this morning & it just won’t go away.
Get your sexy on.]
I had to go to iTunes to hear the song, Sherry, because I didn’t know it. I understand totally. My ‘drive me insane’ song has lately been “I Turn My Camera On” from those new Jaguar ads. I had to download it from iTunes I was so fixated, and then it just stuck itself somewhere in my brain’s short term memory lounge and the BarcaLounger from which my big ass lazy id won’t budge.
Ana, I really do know what you mean, because Fergie’s “London Bridge” did that to me, too. About two weeks ago, after hearing it on the street from a neighbor’s kid’s car. Took me hostage for about a day & a half.
The shame of having one’s brain controlled by a repeating loop of “Sexy Back” is that I didn’t think I even **liked** Justin Timberlake. I mean, the guy used to put his hoo-hoo into Britney Spears.
Here is this great blog topic, which I actually feel strongly about, & we are hijacking it.
Oh, Robin, your vocabulary is surely hung like a Percheron stallion.
No, a Shire. The really big one with the feathered legs.
Okay, I feel better now.
You know, I generally write my posts so rapidly that I don’t even think about the words I use. I never want to get to the point where I’m thinking, “gee, someone might not understand that word, I better make it smaller”—that feels kind of condescending to me. I do censor my natural potty mouth, though, as I swear A LOT in my real life casual conversations. I love love love this video: http://www.maniacworld.com/f-81.htm
Robin, that video is hilarious!
I meant my reference to your vocabulary as a compliment, not sure that was clear. Your casual erudition is impressive as hell. Not many people can write off the cuff with such a combination of flair and analytical reasoning. You clearly pack an enormous intellectual punch.
I meant my reference to your vocabulary as a compliment, not sure that was clear.
It’s okay even if it wasn’t, Ana. In a sense it goes back to that idea of reading and writing being personal; we all have a personal style and voice and way of speaking. I know that my education informs the way I “talk,” but for the most part I think all of us are intelligent, so I never really think about not being understood. If I am, then my writing just isn’t clear enough, and IMO that doesn’t have to do with the size of my vocabulary—it just means I haven’t been able to communicate my point well. That some people dislike my style doesn’t bother me, as it’s the only one I’ve got and it’s been relatively effective in the areas of my life where I’ve needed it to be.
It’s okay even if it wasn’t, Ana.
Nah, I don’t tend to criticize people on the Intarweb. My trolling days are over; I’m no longer l33t. I will admit, I do have to work a little harder on some of your posts, but that’s a good thing. I consider myself a pretty smart person, so it’s nice when I encounter someone who makes me flex the brain muscles a bit. I forget what topic was being discussed but you blew me away. I think it was the thread where Nora Roberts initially said, Fire bad, tree pretty.
08.28.06 at 01:16 PM |