Updated: Oct 22, 2022
I love ‘em.
I love finding new ones, inventing them, and twisting existing words in a fun way. For example, in The Archives I’m using a weapon I call an “entropyr.” It’s a combination of entropy and pyre, so the weapon should give readers the flavor of the fires of chaos. The effects of this faster-than-light energy beam cause molecular bonds to dissolve, and things literally fall apart. Into dust.
Another example is, “They threw a net into the lake.” To which I hear, “They threw Annette into the lake.” Then I wonder who Annette is. There’s an episode of Mad About You where Jamie is telling her sister that she’s running around with a net to catch her. “Who’s Annette?” is her sister’s response. I think that was Season One, and I’ve never forgotten it after all these years. I love it.
A sentence I just wrote is “The underlying susurration of the crowd erupted into pandemonium.” To me this is so descriptive I can almost taste it.
Imagine a tomato so full of flavor you can taste the bacon. I had one from my mother’s garden a few weeks back, and I swear I could taste the other ingredients of a BLT – bacon foremost.
At this point in my life I’m less concerned with people not knowing exactly what “susurration” means. After all, my word processor doesn’t even recognize it as a word. But in the context a reader will catch the flavor of the word.
I hope it tastes like bacon.