I've started The
Scarlet Letter.
Nathaniel Hawthorne is the front-man of King Comma, my second
favorite progressive rock band. Sometimes my commas get out of
control too, as I'm sure you've noticed. I have composite thoughts!
There's nothing I can do! Except, of course, to adopt staccato
exclamation marks as a coping mechanism. What I mean to say is I hope
it doesn't rub off on me.
Madame
Nin, on the other hand, was a master of balanced sentence structure.
She very naturally wrote sentences of a reasonable length without any
extra clauses. They read smoothly, too. I will have to read House
of Incest
and Winter of
Artifice,
but until I get my hands on them I have her erotica to guide me.
Wink.
Hawthorne
is also adept at the sarcastic ad hominid. I just read 15 pages of
the most intricate character assassination ever attempted. His arrow
struck true, as well. He may as well have described his coworkers as
the most adept bike thieves, baby-pinchers, and skilled
opera-house-exhibitionists he had could ever have imagined. I thought
this book was supposed to be dramatic and historical, but so far it's
uproariously funny. It is not entirely out of character for High
School English classes to be highly misleading, and I guess this was
no exception. I have good memories of Junior year English, however,
for without it I would never have read The
Things They Carried
and my introduction to The
Great Gatsby
would have been at the very least delayed.
I
am glad to pay a bit more attention to style. I felt that journaling
was degrading it over the school year. My writing had little
reflection, as a turbulent river of emotion leaves few eddies still
enough to look into. Holla atcha flooid mekanix. #tolerancebreak2k13.
Well
that escalated quickly...
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