It’s been almost a year since I’ve last written a post on this blog. And I feel kinda bad about it, especially because I left in the middle of the story. At the same time, I blog a lot on my other blog and the guest blogs I’m doing are keeping me busy as well.

But here’s what I’m going to do. I don’t know if anybody still cares but I’m going to finish In Too Deep for now and then we’ll see if I’m going to retire this blog for good, or if I feel motivated to continue. Just so you know. 🙂


Hear Ye! Hear Ye!

Award-season, ’tis ‘pun ‘s. Or something. I’m bad at old-talk. What’s much more interesting is that the The Literary Review Bad Sex in Fiction Award Shortlist has been announced*. And the nominee list is once again illustrous**:

  • Paul Theroux for A Dead Hand
  • Nick Cave for The Death of Bunny Munro
  • Philip Roth for The Humbling
  • Jonathan Littell for The Kindly Ones
  • Amos Oz for Rhyming Life and Death
  • John Banville for The Infinities
  • Anthony Quinn for The Rescue Man
  • Simon Van Booy for Love Begins in Winter
  • Sanjida O’Connell for The Naked Name of Love
  • Richard Milward for Ten Storey Love Song

*Also, best reaction to the nomination ever:

“Frankly we would have been offended if he wasn’t shortlisted,” said Anna Frame at [Nick Cave’s] publisher Canongate.

**I don’t know if I should be offended or honoured that there’s only one woman on this list…

As I did last year, I’ll walk you through the availaible excerpts, bookbitching style. [Crossposted.]

Disclaimer: I haven’t read any of the books, so if some things aren’t as weird in context, I won’t know.

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Remember, Remember

Do you remember this monstrosity? NOW THERE’S THE UNOFFICIAL MOVIE VERSION!

All writers who tend to write much too purple prose should be forced to watch videos like this of their own metaphors…

PS: I hope to post the next chapter tomorrow. But it might take me longer.


I know I haven’t been in a while. I’m looking for a book to read next which proves a little difficult. (Suggestions? Mail me or leave a comment!) Surprisingly, I do have a life…

Anyhoo, so that you’ll get your fix of bad prose, check this out. Here’s an excerpt.

Ron Miller – Silk and Steel:

As Spikenard watched, Bronwyn slipped the transparent cloak from her shoulders; it fell with a whisper. She let her hands drop to her sides; she pulled her shoulders back and stood erect, feet apart, legs straight. This is what he saw:

Bronwyn standing pale and tall in the nervous light that shimmered through a vibrating canopy of green leaves. The shifting bands of milky light and emerald shadow made her seem luminous, translucent, as though she were a tallow candle glowing beneath its own flame. Like a porcelain lantern. Like a curtain fluttering in a window at dawn. Like a ghost that came and went with the twilight and darkness, that first veiled and then revealed.

Her hair had the sheen of the sea beneath an eclipsed moon. It was the color of a leopard’s tongue, of oiled mahogany. It was terra cotta, bay and chestnut. Her hair was a helmet, a hood, the cowl of the monk, magician or cobra.

Her face had the fragrance of a gibbous moon. The scent of fresh snow. Her eyes were dark birds in fresh snow. They were the birds’ shadows, they were mirrors; they were the legends on old charts. They were antique armor and the tears of dragons. Her brows were a raptor’s sharp, anxious wings. They were a pair of scythes. Her ears were a puzzle carved in ivory. Her teeth were her only bracelet; she carried them within the red velvet purse of her lips. Her tongue was amber. Her tongue was a ferret, an anemone, a fox caught in the teeth of a tiger.

And it goes on like this, down her body. When he reaches her tighs, you’re all relieved because you think it’s over. And then he starts with her backside…

People, I’d read that with you! Unfortunately, I can’t find a copy. And I’m not prepared to actually spend money on this, money that would only encourage the author to write some more…

Bad Sex Is Hilarious

The Literary Review Bad Sex in Fiction Award Shortlist has been announced. And here are some extracts. Therefore, I interrupt Ms. Anthony and will go about them, bookbitching style (crossposted at my personal blog).

Disclaimer: I haven’t read any of the books, so if some things aren’t as weird in context, I won’t know.

Continue reading